


The Tripping Place

by heeroluva



Category: Star Trek (2009), The Sentinel
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Angst, Biting, Blood, Bottoming from the Top, Child Abuse, Community: startrekbigbang, Empathy, Epic, Known!Sentinels, M/M, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Star Trek Big Bang Challenge, Tarsus IV, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-02
Updated: 2010-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the defeat of Nero, the trip back to Earth is full of surprises. After the destruction of Vulcan, Spock begins experiencing odd, unexplainable symptoms that have him questioning his sanity and his ability to hold his position. When Spock is no longer able to hide his problems, Dr. McCoy's diagnosis comes as a shock to all. Secrets of the past come to light, discoveries ensue, and no one is prepared for the ramifications. Note: There is no need to be familiar with The Sentinel to read this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Spock knew precisely when the unexplained symptoms had made their first appearance. It was 15.2 days after the destruction of Vulcan, a full thirty eight days out from Earth as they had no warp and limited impulse control. As the surviving Vulcans had been transferred to another ship for transport to Earth, there was no one for him to talk to if he had so desired, which he had not. He also did not seek out Dr. McCoy or attempt to contact one of the few remaining Vulcan healers.

Due to the conditions of his birth, his very existence, Spock had been trained to note and observe the most minute changes in his body be it function, ability, or appearance. He had noted everything and presented it to the doctors and researchers that were in charge of his case, underwent their examinations and tests with no complaint because doing so would not have changed the situation, would have only increased the derision directed towards him due to his differences, his half-blood status.

When Spock left Vulcan to join Starfleet he did not suddenly stop his observations and notes, but he was no longer obligated to share any of it with others. The doctors had requested his continued reports, but he declined as he was no longer obligated to do so because he was no longer required to follow his father's instructions. While technically he was still a dependent of Sarek until he had his first pon farr, his father had made no move to contact him, nor demand for him to continue sending his reports to the doctors.

No one knew his body and mind better than he, so there was no need to share the changes with others. After the destruction of Vulcan, he had no desire to be subjected to such invasions of privacy, a very human concept he knew, but one he highly valued. For all his research he was unable to find an explanation for the symptoms that plagued him.

The first thing Spock noticed was the smell. His sense of smell was naturally more acute than that of a human, but one morning he woke to a smell so horrid that he feared he would pass out despite all of his Vulcan control. It was the most putrid stench he had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Then as suddenly as it started the smell vanished, leaving Spock grasping for possibilities wondering if this was some elaborate prank being waged against him by an Ensign with a grudge. While he could think of no one that he had slighted, he had long ago learned that humans had wildly different views on such things than Vulcans. After thoroughly searching his quarters finding nothing out of place, or anything that could have been the source of the smell, he went about his day experiencing no more problems.

It wasn't until two weeks later that the stench hit him again in the officer's mess hall, and it was the closest anyone had seen him to running from a room unprovoked. This time the smell did not disappear and seemed to be everywhere he went. There was no escaping it. Every breath brought with it a torture the likes of which he was not prepared to face. Locking himself in his room, he began his normal meditation rituals and was finally able to separate himself.

Months passed without another reoccurrence, at least not from his sense of smell. The ship returned to Earth, and classes resumed, and everything was normal. That is until the rashes began. They would come and go so quickly that Spock began to doubt his own senses He took to wearing jeans in the comfort of his own quarters and found the symptoms gone as if by magic, and hypothesized a sudden allergy to the synthetic material so favored these days. To remedy the situation he switched his thermal wear to all natural cotton and was relieved when that set of symptoms suddenly disappeared as though by magic. Still he did not talk to anyone of this, did not record it in anyway other than his own observations.

More months passed, and the ship was repaired and once again he was in space. However, just because so much time had passed did not mean that Spock had put it from his mind or forgot. Therefore, it came to no surprise to him, when the scent overcame once again him on his way to his quarters. So dazed he could hardly see straight, he made a quick detour to the observatory, and locking the door behind him, he set about meditating using the stars as his focus, shutting down his sense of smell as much as he was able to. His control and knowledge of his body should have allowed him to separate himself totally, but he found himself unable.

However, the stars drew him in, and he let himself drift, reaching farther and farther into them, finding stars that he knew he should not be able to see from their current location, stars that were brighter and more brilliant than ever before. He almost imagined that he could see minute planets circling the brilliant light sources, and moons the size of a speck of dust surrounding them. Time passed unnoticed as Spock lost himself until Jim's voice called for him through the communicator asking if he was still going to meet Jim for tonight's game of chess.

Spock visibly jumped at the sudden sound, unsure of what had happened or how much time had passed. "Sorry Captain. I was mediating and lost track of time. I shall be there shortly."

There was a long pause as though Jim was thinking of saying something before his voice announced, "See you shortly. Kirk, out."

Spock's mind was not on the game. Instead he found himself trying to quantify and analyze the changes in himself, creating hypothesis after hypothesis and discarding them just as quickly. Despite his distraction, he felt Jim's heavy gaze on him, knew his Captain knew that Spock's attention was elsewhere. He was thankful that this man, his friend did not push him right now, did not question him about things that he was not ready to admit that he did not understand or know the meaning of.

It was the ultimate disgrace for a Vulcan to not know themselves and even more so for one such as he who had spent the majority of his life mastering himself. After nearly an hour of silence and very little progress, Jim finally spoke up. "I think we should call it a night and pick this up again next time. It is obvious that neither of our minds are on the game tonight."

Spock stood quickly, straightening his shirt, grateful for the excuse to leave and meditate on this. "Very well, Captain. I shall see you in the morning." Turning towards the door he was stopped both by Jim's hand grasping his and the man's words. He almost jumped at the electric shock that traveled up his arm at the touch, but Jim had no such control.

"Spock, if you need to talk to me about anything I'm here."

They stood frozen for several long moments, Spock facing the door, his hand pulled back and held tightly by Jim's. "I shall remember the offer."

Pulling his hand away, he felt the reluctance on Jim's part as the grip momentarily tightened before he was released. He did not understand the odd pang in his chest at the loss of contact, and the weight of his Captain's stare followed him all the way back to his quarters.


	2. The Tripping Place

Months Prior

The trip back to nearest space station to get repair parts to fix their warp drive so they could return home to Earth had been both horribly long and not nearly long enough. Without their warp cores they were left limping home at an abysmally slow pace. In normal circumstances another ship would be sent to tow or pick up the occupants of the ship if towing wasn't an option. However, the past week had proven that if nothing else they were experiencing anything but normal circumstances. All available ships had been sent to the Vulcan system to search for and pick up survivors and get them relocated until such a time that they could regroup and decide what to do for the remnants of their species.

That wouldn't have been such a concern if the ship wasn't so damaged, filled with so many injured, and had been fully stocked. As this had been the ship's maiden voyage and not expected to be a long one, the ship had limited supplies. The replicators were normally the last items to be stocked, so Jim felt it was lucky that they had enough to last them a month. That is – they would have had enough raw materials to last a month under normal circumstances, but again these times had proven to be anything but typical.

The ship had been overstaffed,' a learning experience' the Admiralty had said. So a ship that was designed to house five hundred took off with a crew closer to six hundred and fifty. Thirty seven had been lost in Nero's first attack against them, and while it could have been worse, most of those were medical crew, some of the best and brightest. Their loss was a huge blow.

Then add that to the one hundred and fifty eight Vulcans, mostly children from the first school they had been able to locate and had managed to evacuate, the ship's resources were quickly stressed. After a full inventory of their resources at normal use the replicators would run out after two weeks and four days. They had enough emergency rations (praise the powers that those were fully stocked) to last another week and a half.

Rationing could extend those supplies to last them the entire limping trip to the space station, but Jim wasn't Kodos and wouldn't hear of it. It was pointed out that the Vulcans could go extended periods with little or no food, but Jim had flat out refused to hear it. No one should have to starve and he wasn't about to let the children be subjected to such a thing.

He desperately wished that Pike was conscious and lucid because he could greatly use the man's help. The Captain had quickly become a mentor to Jim at the Academy, and he was grateful for the support. But Jim had no leverage with brass, no contacts or favors to call in, and as far as he knew, they had very little respect for him following the hearing and how he came to be aboard the ship. They didn't want to hear from him. But he couldn't fault the Captain.

The spinal damage was severe and despite Bones' experience and having some of the most state of the art medical equipment, spinal injuries were still very tricky and prone to complications, and there was only so much the doctor to do. After Bones removed the slug, which he could only hypothesize was confused by human biology as it was used to that of a Klingon due to the excessive damage it did to Pike's spinal column, he put Pike into stasis to prevent further deterioration until they could get him to Earth and treated by a specialist.

After multiple attempts to contact Admiral Barnett only to be rebuffed and told the man was too busy to speak to him, it had finally taken Jim's threat to go to the media to get the man to take him seriously. Jim knew that his threat and actions were probably just another nail in the coffin to tanking his career, but he wasn't about to sit idly by and let another Tarsus IV take place on his watch when he could prevent it. Spock hadn't tried to regain his position as acting captain. Jim had no real authority to appoint a First Officer, but Spock had agreed to be his when asked as he was the most qualified and one of the only ranking officers with experience.

Together they had gotten the Admiralty to agree to send a ship within a week's time that would bring relief rations and was also capable of taking those rescued as well as a large amount of the non-essential crew back to earth. Given the situation there was no need for the majority, so it was better to send them home.

Before Starfleet had agreed to bring supplies and relief, Jim knew that Spock had already begun to eat less. He noticed that something was up and asked Bones who monitored replicator usage. When confronted, Spock had argued that it was only logical that he do so because it wasn't a hardship for his Vulcan physiology. Jim had countered that if Spock continued restrict his rations that Jim would follow his example, and despite Spock's argument as to how illogical such an action would be for the Captain, Jim wasn't about to be swayed and Spock finally gave in.

Or so he said. Despite what was said about Vulcans, that they couldn't or didn't lie, Jim wasn't so trusting, and had Bones keep extra tabs on his First Officer just in case. He was relieved to note that after a time there was no marked change in Spock's diet, though Bones did notice that the man switched to only consuming bland foods, and while it was not atypical for Vulcans, Spock had used to enjoy certain spices. But Jim wrote it off as grief, a way of dealing with the loss of his planet, his species, his home, and his mother.

Seeing the children was hardest of all. The majority of the crew had opted to even further consolidate rooms by sharing to give the Vulcans privacy for their grief. After a number of unexpected hysterical outbursts by the crewmembers that had high psi scores as well as the medical staff that were examining the children it became apparent that they were projecting, particularly the younger ones. Most had lost not only their parental bonds, but that of their bond mate as well. The death cries of billions had been felt by them all, and they had been powerless to help. Such a thing could affect the most controlled psyche as Spock's 'emotionally compromised' state had proven, and the children, for all their knowledge, were still children.

For everyone with even a moderate psi score, the Vulcans' grief was almost palpable, a constant presence in their minds. Despite the common belief that Vulcans did not feel, the crew learned firsthand how strongly they did indeed feel, possibly more strongly than even humans, and how Vulcans did not suppress their emotions, but worked instead to control them. For the mental health of the crew, they were going through the psi inhibitor Stylocaine as fast as it was produced from the labs as the replicator use was limited to just food unless there was an emergency.

It was rare for the bridge crew to not have at least mild psi abilities, and Jim had been questioned multiple times on the command track if he was fit to hold such a position with no psi abilities to speak of. Someone higher up obviously had access to his sealed records because he was always cleared to keep going. He sometimes wondered if Pike knew, but couldn't get up the nerves to breach the subject.

His empathy was off the charts and a carefully hidden secret for reasons he did not like to dwell on. On the transporter pad after Amanda was lost, Spock and Sarek's grief had been so over painfully clear that Jim hadn't even been able to look at them for more than a second. Given the fact that he was supposedly a psi null, he could not request Stylocaine. Well, Bones knew, and would likely have gotten him some if he'd asked, but Jim could not imagine being without his empathy for even a short period of time.

In the midst of everything Jim had an idea. It was a very human one, and the Vulcan Elders had at first been reluctant for the children to interact with humans in such a way. However, when Jim pointed out that as they were facing an event unlike one the species had ever experienced before and which had unforeseeable consequences, it had to be logical to use whatever means they had available to them, even if it went counter to Vulcan teaching.

The children at first had been reluctant to do such a thing, but all it took was one brave soul to step forward. By the end of the week there wasn't a crew member that hadn't participated. Human children after all needed physical contact as did many other species, so what could it really hurt to try the same on a Vulcan suffering so much grief? Jim of course was the first to volunteer, not allowing the crew to do something that he himself did not first make sure was safe. He would have done it without asking, but the Vulcans were doing a good job at keeping the children segregated, barely allowing the medical staff to run their tests before running them off.

A handful of children were brought to the room, and Jim held out his hand. The group stood there for long moments, undecided, before one lanky boy stepped forward wide-eyed. For one brief instance Jim thought that this was what Spock must have looked like at such an age, before the boy tentatively grasped his hand, causing Jim to gasp, and bite back a cry. He thought he'd been prepared, thought he'd felt the worst of it when Spock had attacked him, but he hadn't taken into consideration that Spock was fully grown and had the control that came with it. This boy had no such control and was barely holding on.

And Jim didn't fight it, merely accepted it, took it, and let it wash through him. Jim hesitantly pulled the boy towards him, and when he did not protest, cautiously wrapped his arms around the small frame. The boy shuddered then froze, before timidly returning the embrace, as though unsure if he was allowed, then upon realizing he wasn't going to be chastised, tightened his grip. Jim didn't voice his discomfort at the sudden squeeze of limbs and the pain it brought because despite being a child, he was still a Vulcan and three times stronger than a human.

Despite not voicing a complaint, the child felt his pain and rapidly loosened his grip and tried to pull away, but Jim wouldn't allow it. He vaguely heard Spock's voice of "Don't" probably stopping another Vulcan from stepping forward and breaking the contact. Jim tried his best not to read people, but his empathy made that hard, and given the situation he embraced it, felt the boy's fear and guilt, but most of all grief.

Not having done this in years, Jim tried his best to project warmth and acceptance, and knew it had worked when the form in his arms relaxed again and once more wrapped his arms around Jim, this time taking care not to squeeze too hard. When the face buried itself in his neck he was not surprised at the sudden wetness he felt there nor the relief he felt from the boy at finally being able to let go of his control, no matter how wrong he had been taught it was to do so. Jim understood the Vulcan need for control, having experienced firsthand what happened when it was lost, but he couldn't help but believe that everyone needed to let go at certain times. Despite the tears the boy was silent and still, and he was relieved sometime later when he realized that his cheeks were streaked with tears, that no one spoke of it.

Turning his head, he noticed that the crew that he had selected and the remaining children were in similar embraces. Seeing Bones in a similar position he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face, a smile that grew when the man met his eyes and gave him a look that dared him to say something. Despite the man's horrible bedside manner and gruff, grizzly bear exterior, Jim knew there was a teddy bear hiding underneath. The man would have been a great father. If Jocelyn hadn't miscarried Jim wondered if Bones would have still been here today. He hated the part of himself that was glad it happened because the man was the best thing that had happened to him.

Glancing over at his First Officer standing near his father and the rest of the Vulcan Elders overseeing the events, he would have thought the man was unaffected by what was happening as his face was impassive as ever, but it his eyes that gave it away. Emotions swam across Spock's eyes like storm clouds before the gale. The Vulcan, suddenly realizing he was being watched, slowly turned his head and met his eyes. The instant their eyes met, it was as though Spock flicked a switch. His eyes went cool and blank, completely emotionless.

Jim felt a pang in his chest that after all they'd been through the man still felt the need to hide from him, but Jim knew he wasn't being realistic. Despite their experiences and their ability to work well together when they weren't at each other's throats (which was decreasing everyday as they got to know and respect each other), they were not friends. He'd gotten the impression from future Spock that they had a great and long lasting friendship from almost the start, but Jim wasn't sure if he could see that happening.

Hell, the likelihood of him being assigned anywhere anytime soon, let alone on the Enterprise or as Captain was slim to none. He still had that disciplinary hearing hanging over his head (which he still felt was completely unfair as he had used original, out-of-the-box thinking to solve the problem), and the fact that he'd stowed away on a starship, let alone that it was the Enterprise (the fucking flagship of the Federation) that he was expressly banned from being on would not go unnoticed or unpunished, he was sure. If he was lucky, he figured he would be permanently grounded and if he was unlucky, he knew that the ice ball that was Delta Vega would be the least of his worries.

When the boy in his arms suddenly went limp, he was distressed until he realized that the boy had simply passed out from exhaustion caused both by the trauma of losing so much and by the uncommon emotional release. Looking around he realized that the others were experiencing similar things, and those children that were still awake appeared almost asleep on their feet. The Vulcans around them did not seem distressed or surprised by the situation and showed everyone where they could place their charges to rest. No arrangement was made for another session or for the other children until the next day when it was announced that there was a marked improvement in the constitution of the children that had participated.

A rotating schedule was quickly set up and while it was strictly voluntary, the entirety of the crew, with the exception of a certain Vulcan, was taking part. The children were by no means forced to participate, but many did, and many of those that didn't at first quickly got over their fear of breaking such a taboo, seeing that it was the logical thing to do after observing the obvious improvement of their peers.

Jim wanted to confront his wayward First Officer, but knew that given the situation the man would probably not welcome it, and after experiencing both the strength of the Vulcan's body and emotions, he wasn't about to place himself before that train again without a good reason. The man was fully grown and could take care of himself, or so he told his slightly guilty conscience when it decided to make an appearance. So to say that Jim was surprised when Spock appeared at his door holding a chessboard the first evening that he'd had a chance to rest and breathe since this whole thing with Nero had started, was putting it mildly.

He just stood staring at the Vulcan dumbly for a moment before the man asked, "May I enter, Captain?"

Jim blinked and hastily backed up, stammering, "Um, yeah, be my guest, Mr. Spock. What can I do for you?"

Spock eyed Jim for a moment. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

Jim looked down realizing his state of undress, a pair of baggy pajama pants, a regulation undershirt, and bare feet, but he wasn't about to be embarrassed or ashamed in his own quarters and just shrugged. "I'd planned on it being an early night."

"I am sorry to interrupt your sleep. I can return at a more opportune time." Spock turned, ready to leave Jim's quarters.

But Jim rushed to stop him, wondering what this was all about. "No wait. It's still early yet. I have time. If I go to bed now, I'll probably wake up at 0300 hours anyway and then spend my entire shift cranky."

Spock's eyebrow rose, and Jim marveled at how such a thing could be so expressive. "That is illogical. If you know that you could not sleep, why do so?"

Jim just laughed, "No one has ever accused me of being logical. Get used to it. It's a human trait, or so you should have already figured out by now. Now, what did you want?

"I had thought it obvious for one such as yourself."

Jim ignored the barb.

Spock set the chessboard down on the empty table and pulled out a pouch that Jim was sure contained the pieces. "I have heard rumors that you are an accomplished chess player. I wanted to see those skills myself."

"Now?" Jim asked in confusion, not understanding the other man's motivation.

"Would another time be more appropriate?" Spock asked.

"No, no, this is fine." Jim pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for Spock to do the same.

Spock quickly set up the board, ignoring Jim's attempts to help.

Jim didn't comment on Spock's choice to let him go first, setting up the white pieces in front of Jim. Making the first move, Jim carefully watched the man across from him. Spock didn't give anything away (not that Jim expected him to), nor did he look up as he also moved. Making another move, Jim began to test the waters, looking for Spock's style, looking for patterns, for traps, and for future moves. All the while, Jim knew Spock was doing the same.

So intent was he on the game, Jim jumped as Spock's sudden words broke the long silence.

"I apologize for my actions on the bridge. They were illogical and impulsive. It was not my intent to hurt you."

Jim just started at him in disbelief before snorting. "You're full of shit. Get off your high horse and visit us lonely peasants down here on the ground. We both know that you would have killed me if not for your father. As it was, the damage was considerable. My ears are still ringing from the lecture that Bones gave me about running out of nine lives one of these days."

Spock was stunned speechless by his words and frankness, and Jim might have laughed at any other situation. Finally finding his words, Spock replied. "As you are not a cat, I do not believe you have anything to worry about. And you are correct, though I must reiterate that your actions were illogical. There was only one possible course of action for me given the situation."

Jim sobered at the words, remembering the pain and rage he'd felt from the Vulcan. "I took a gamble. It's what I do." He drew a deep breath. "Spock, you have to know that I am also sorry. I did not mean those words about your mother. I know you love her. Even a blind man could see that."

Spock abruptly stood and stated, "Thank you for the game, Captain. Please excuse me."

Before Jim could utter a word or protest or even question his First Officer's actions, the man took his leave of Jim's quarters, leaving him staring at the now closed door and wondering what the hell had just happened. Maybe mentioning the Vulcan's mother was the wrong thing to do. He internally kicked himself. She hadn't even been dead two weeks, so of course it still hurt. Jim didn't even have to touch Spock to feel the pain radiating off him. It was almost palpable, so different from that of the older Vulcans or even the children. He wondered if it had to do with the Vulcan's mixed heritage.

Stifling a sudden yawn, he looked at the clock then jumped and cursed, wondering where the time had gone. Surely that much time had not passed, but apparently it had. Grumbling, he climbed into bed. Sleep was a long time in coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was not exceptionally different than the others, but there was an odd calmness that had not been present before. Spock still took pleasure in correcting him, citing regulations, and interjecting information whenever he saw fit. But there was a difference. Jim knew that it had something to do with last night, but he didn't know what it was. Something had changed he knew that, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He hated not knowing.

It was almost as if there had been a glacier between them, breaking apart and creating violent waves, but now there was nothing, just a calm sea. But that was silly; he knew things couldn't clear up that fast, not with the amount of animosity between them. This was the beginning of what could be, and Jim felt a pang of sadness knowing that once they got to Earth, that would be the end of it. Jim was sure the Vulcan would ship out on his own vessel, whilst he was left watching the waves crash on the shore.

He had to admit it was the most relaxing day he'd had since this whole mess had started, and he only hoped it lasted. At the end of their shift, Spock was the first one to leave, and Jim had to practically run to catch up with the man's quick, ground-covering strides. "Hey, Spock. Wait up. You busy?"

Spock stopped at the sound of his name. "As our shift has just ended, I am not 'busy'."

"You know what I mean. You may be Vulcan, but I've seen your files. You've more of an expert on Earth than most earthlings, so don't be obtuse. For all I know you had plans for the evening."

Spock began walking again, and Jim took up pace next to him. "Given the time, I feel the need to partake in sustenance. Uhura had asked to share the meal with me and I agreed."

"Oh." Jim was crestfallen, but didn't know why he suddenly expected any different. "Well, I'll leave you to that."

Spock continued on as though Jim had no spoken. "After dinner, I have nothing of importance to do, and can meet in your quarters to finish our game."

"What?" Jim exclaimed, and at Spock's look, he continued more calmly, "I mean, that sounds great. I'll see you then."

Jim practically ran to the officer's mess, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Absorbed in paperwork a few hours later, Jim jumped when the door chimed and called, "Come in."

Seeing Spock, he nodded. "I'll be just a minute. Take a seat. Who knew that paperwork took so much time?"

"As there is a required course on paper work, and two for the command track, you should be familiar with the demands." Spock said as he sat in the chair he had occupied last night.

"Ha. If they wanted that to be realistic, they need to start assigning at least twenty times more work. That was nothing compared to this." Jim finished the current document, saved, and sent it before turning off the screen.

"As you know, these circumstances are not usual, and such paperwork would not be commonplace on a normal mission."

Taking his own seat, Jim countered, "As opposed to an abnormal mission?"

Spock who was now examining the board, though Jim had no doubt the Vulcan had the positions memorized, did not look up as he spoke. "As opposed to a five year mission."

Jim found himself laughing at the man's audacity, but kept up the banter, not realizing that a Vulcan was capable of such a thing.

After a time, their words died off as the game heated up. Multiple times he felt himself closing in on the Vulcan, only to have the man pull back just in time. And Jim himself managed to avoid all the traps that he saw Spock planning. It was the most fun Jim had had in ages. He hadn't been challenged like this since he couldn't recall, and he began to think that for a man with a big stick up his ass, Spock wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, seeing his opportunity, he slid a piece across the board as a decoy, hoping Spock would counter it. Finally making his move, he was not prepared for Spock's counter, had not seen it.

"Fascinating," Spock said, apparently just as shocked by the development.

Jim just stared at the board incredulously, before laughing uproariously.

It was a draw.

Spock spoke. "I do not see the humor in this situation."

"Spock, I haven't lost in years, but I haven't had a draw in longer. You're very skilled. What do you say to a rematch?"

Spock seemed to consider it for a moment. "That is agreeable."

And thus began the pattern that would define their friendship.


	3. The Tripping Place

After the Vulcans, Captain Pike, and extra crew were picked up and their stocks replenished, Jim suddenly had a lot of time on his hands. He'd really expected Starfleet to relieve him, or send orders for him to hand over command to Spock or another. When they didn't, he decided they were just going to let him sweat. He knew all the techniques, having taken all the classes and passed them all with flying colors. He just didn't expect to have to have them done to him so soon in a non-training environment.

That night he snuck into Bones' quarters, and his friend lifted the covers and gathered him close when he climbed in, finally allowing himself to cry for all the grief that he'd felt from the children. He wanted to sob and scream and rail about the unfairness of it all, but kept silent, his tears the only testament to the pain he felt inside. Bones made no comment on the tears just held him close, and Jim did not mention the doctor's own.

Jim briefly wished he had the Vulcans' control, but threw out the idea just as quickly, knowing that such a thing wasn't for him. He understood their need for control, but it was not the same for him. His empathy, while slightly similar to their telepathy, was not to be controlled and he knew it would hurt him if he tried. It was both a curse and a blessing, though he'd never embraced it as such until recent years when Bones patiently showed him that there was some good in it.

Exiting the doctor's quarters early the next morning, he was startled to find Spock walking down the hall.

Spock, for his part, did not appear surprised and greeted, "Good morning, Captain," before continuing on his way.

Well, that was weird, Jim thought, but continued on towards his quarters to get ready for the day. When Spock didn't bring it up again, he forgot all about it.

When he wasn't bugging Bones in the sickbay (the doctor told him that if he showed up one more time without a good reason to annoy him, that he would give him a reason to need to be in there, though Jim knew that his friend would never follow through with the threat), he was trying to get a rise out of the Vulcan. Really, it was too easy sometimes.

There was an added bonus that it just seemed to piss off Uhura, and he couldn't help but enjoy any rise he got from her. He wondered what was going on between her and Spock, but picked up enough feelings from both of them to know better than to question it, as it wasn't his business. As Captain or even just Acting Captain he had no reason to interfere as long as the relationship wasn't coerced, wasn't between one's direct superior and their subordinate, and did not interfere with ship business. He was doing his best to act as professional as possible, knowing that everyone would be giving reports on him and his actions. The slightest misdeeds, the smallest overlooked details, could be used against him, so he tried his best to prevent that.

The rendezvous with the space station was anticlimactic as it was tiny, and held little in the way of entertainment. What it did have was the rare parts they needed. Repairs went more quickly than expected under Scotty's watchful eyes and in almost no time they were on their way back to Earth on low warp.

When they finally reached the solar system there was mass excitement, and Jim knew everyone had been as bored as he, and they didn't even have the added thrill of an infinite amount of paperwork to make it that much better. If he never had to fill out another report it wouldn't be a minute too soon. Maybe that was their plan, he thought insanely. They were trying to drive him mad with paperwork so they had an excuse to discharge him. Jim snorted at his own inanity.

Finally beaming down and feeling the Earth beneath his feet was amazing after over a month of the constant vibrations of the ship. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying as though the ground was moving under him. He'd heard of such an event with sailors of old. They'd gotten so used to being on the sea that they had to relearn to walk without movement beneath their feet.

He was taken to a sterile, white room, illuminated by an overly bright florescent light that flickered and buzzed annoyingly. The room contained nothing but a table with two chairs on either side. He expected someone to follow him in, but as the door closed behind him and the click of the locking system slid into place, he realized they were going to let him sweat it out some more. The two-way mirror wasn't obvious, but he knew it was there, could feel the people on the other side, their curiosity, disbelief, anger, fear, and so much more. He took a deep breath, fighting to control the sudden onslaught of emotions, wondering if the people on the other side had seen his sealed file, if they were purposely torturing him. However, he knew that was unlikely.

Not wanting to let them see his nerves or show weakness, he forced himself not to pace, no matter how much he wanted to, feeling like one of those pitiful caged cats at one of those old-times zoos that pace the length of their cage endlessly, seeking a way out that they would never find, a hopeless look in their eyes, a need for freedom that they would never receive. Sliding down the wall, he sat, not knowing how much time passed, but it seemed like an eternity, and he mused that the Vulcans' internal clock must really come in handy in situations like these.

He jumped to his feet as the lock clicked, and wasn't surprised to see Admiral Barnett. Who he was surprised to see was Admiral Archer. The man rarely made appearances these days due to his age, and Jim had never seen him in person, only pictures. Despite the pictures being decades old he still recognized the man. He had aged well. But the sight of Archer got Jim's fear rising and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. They were pulling out the big guns for this. The man was a legend for a reason.

While gesturing towards a chair, Barnett addressed him, "Cadet Kirk, take a seat."

There was no request in his tone, only an order. And the way he said 'cadet' when it was still protocol to call him by his current title no matter how temporary it was, was an unveiled insult.

But he was surprised by the look Archer shot the other man, "Barnett! Don't be rude."

Jim suddenly wondered if he was going to be part of a good cop, bad cop routine. Been there done that. Even had the shiny medal to prove he was a veteran at it. But this was different. He had never cared then, and now that he did the odds were very different and he did not like it one bit.

When Archer turned to face him, Jim felt himself start to sweat but forced himself to keep his face straight. "Now, kid."

Jim couldn't help but bristle at the word, even knowing that to the man everyone must seem like a kid. But it was too often an insult. The only one that could get away with it without complaint was Bones.

"No need for that. Relax. We just have a few questions for you. Your crew's going through the same."

That's when the drilling began. They wanted a play by play from how the hell he got on the Enterprise to begin with all the way through stepping back onto Earth. He knew they knew it already. He filled out the paperwork… a dozen times. But he told it. And then he told it again. And again. And again.

The questions were endless. How did he know that it was Romulans? Why did Pike make him First Officer? Why did Spock step down as Captain and why did Jim not return the command to him when Spock was again fit to lead? What did Jim think he would get out of threatening the Admiralty?

At that last question, Jim finally had enough and exploding, standing suddenly, sending the chair crashing to the ground and causing the other men to stand as well when he shouted, "No one should ever have to starve! No one! Especially not children! I don't care if they were Vulcan and could go longer without food than humans. They were still children. That's never going to happen under my watch. You had the resources. It wasn't a hardship for you to send a ship and supplies. I wasn't going to be the next Kodos when the Federation could prevent it. "

Jim suddenly shut up, but it was too late. The look Archer gave him was appraising.

The man turned his head to look at the security that Jim hadn't noticed entering the room after his outburst, and ordered, "Get out."

One of them protested. "But sir?"

There was a dangerous edge to his voice. "Don't make me repeat myself."

The men couldn't exit fast enough at his words.

Turning back around, Archer's stare seemed to see right through him, read the value of his soul. "Pick up your chair and sit down."

Jim hesitated.

"Now!" the man practically growled.

Jim scrambled to do as he was told, suddenly feeling like a little kid about to be punished for something he hadn't done. Sitting down, he squared his jaw and met the man's eyes, daring him.

"You were on Tarsus IV."

It wasn't a question, so he didn't bother to reply. He was sure that the man had seen his file, but from the small startled sound from Barnett, the other man had not known.

"You were JT, the boy that rescued, fed, and led over thirty other children scheduled for execution, often at the price of himself, and then disappeared as soon as rescue came."

"Thirty eight," Jim gritted out as he clenched his jaw so hard that he was afraid for his teeth. No one had called him that name in over a decade, and he could have done without hearing it.

"They all lived."

Jim swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. He'd tried looking for some of them, those that he knew the full names of, but it had been hard. Their files were sealed, and while he knew he could hack them, he couldn't do so without being detected. He didn't want the attention. He was good but not that good.

"Some of them think you died for them. A few are still searching for you. They all want to thank you."

Jim could not stop the tears this time.

"You, at age twelve, did what starship Captains four times your age could not have done. You're a natural leader, and you won't ask anything of your crew that you yourself are not willing to do as well. People look up to you for that, respect you and listen to you for that. All traits that are in low supply these days. That's why I'm promoting you to Captain of the Enterprise."

Jim wasn't sure if it was him or Barnett that shouted in surprise, "What?" Maybe it was both of them.

Barnett did say, "Jonathan. Have you lost your mind?"

Archer just went right along as though he hadn't heard them. "Of course it's not official yet. We'll have a ceremony where Christopher is officially promoted to Admiral. While he will likely make a near full recovery, it will take time, and he is also of the mentality of not asking others to do what he can't. He's also feeling his age. We'll name you his successor at the time. You naturally still have to finish your schooling, but I'm sure that won't be a problem."

At the announcement, a roar filled Jim's ears, and while he saw the man's mouth moving it was in slow motion, and he didn't hear one word of it. The unexpected news that he was not being court-martialed but promoted, and the sudden relief knowing that Pike was going to be alright blindsided him. As the world grayed around the edges, he didn't notice the man get up, nor did he feel Archer catch and lay him gently on the floor as the world finally went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim woke suddenly, and jerked upright, looking wildly around, just knowing this wasn't his room and he'd had the strangest dream. He swore Archer had promoted him to Captain of the Enterprise. Crazy talk. He relaxed when he finally realized it was a hospital, having spent no small portion of his life in them.

The door unexpectedly opened and Bones entered. Jim couldn't help but grin. It wasn't often that he saw the other man in his civvies, and the sight always made him smile. His fashion sense was unique.

Bones grinned back, happy to see him awake. "Well, lookie here. Seems you finally decided to grace us with your presence again in the land of the living."

Jim opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a croak. He coughed and then moaned at the pain the action caused as he realized his mouth and throat were painfully dry.

Bones was suddenly there with a cup of water, slowly tilting it into his mouth and telling him, "Slowly, slowly, too fast and you'll be sick."

It was always the same, but Jim still wanted to gulp it down.

"You've been out over forty eight hours, severe exhaustion and dehydration they say. Well no fucking wonder when they kept you locked in that room for 17 hours after a 15 hour shift."

Jim hadn't really listened until he heard the part about the room. "It wasn't a dream?" he asked, voice still rough.

Bones cocked his head. "What wasn't a dream?"

"Archer."

Bones smiled wildly, "Only you could spend seventeen hours in interrogation and come out with a promotion." He sobered quickly. "Jim, you need to be careful. Some of the Admirals are gunning for you already. They're saying that Archer has finally lost it, but no one will publicly go against him. The word spread real quick. There was obviously a leak and the press already is having a field day. It's hell out there. You're the new poster boy of the Federation."

"But your crew's backing you. A large portion of them have signed up to go on with you, and even more are clamoring for places on the ship. All the final choices are yours, of course."

"Wait, wait, wait, just stop. This is bit much to take in right now. I haven't even graduated yet." Jim reached up and rubbed his suddenly aching temples.

"So what? You'll finish your classes. Hell, I'm sure they'll waive some of them for you. And don't be coy. You know you could have tested out of most of them if they had let you. Not all of us are blessed with perfect auditory recall. But look on the bright side, you don't have to worry about your commission like the rest of your classmates, after all, your position's already set in stone. You never do things by halves do you, kid? Not only the youngest Captain in history, but also the only one to be promoted before he even graduated." Bones laughed. "Only you, Jim." Quickly sobering, he looked at Jim seriously. "Your dad would be proud, kid."

Grabbing McCoy's hand, he grinned, and blinked rapidly against the tears he wouldn't allow to fall. "And you Bones, where are you going to be while I'm out exploring space? They give you some cushy job here at the hospital?"

McCoy gave him a look that said 'you idiot.' "Where the hell do you think I'll be? Someone has to keep your skinny ass alive and it sure isn't going to be some green doctor who's never set foot on a spaceship. Running into space won't get rid of me that easily."

Jim just laughed happily. "Says the man who was so afraid of space that he wanted to lock himself in the bathroom in the shuttle. Don't ever change. Oh, hey. How's Pike?"

Bones sobered instantly. "The best experts in the field are working on his case, but even with all of our medical advances, spinal cord damage is still a very hard thing to overcome. Right now his outcome is guarded but optimistic. He's already regained some sensation in his legs. There's hope that he'll be able to walk again, but that'll be months, maybe even years down the road and will require extensive physical therapy."

Jim just nodded, happy to hear that his mentor would recover. "So that's why I was offered the Enterprise."

"No, or at least not the whole reason. There's nothing saying that Pike couldn't still captain the ship, despite his physical condition. You're like him in many regards. He's not comfortable asking the crew to do what he himself is unable to do, so they're promoting him to Admiral."

Jim blinked. "He's going to hate it. Whatever happened to Spock?"

"I've seen him around campus a few times. There's talk that he's leaving Starfleet to help with the Vulcan relocation and settlement."

"What? Are you serious? There's no way. He never said anything to me about it. I want him as my First Officer, no one else."

Bones sighed. "That might be easier said than done, man. The brass isn't all that happy with him right now, seeing as how his decision almost got Earth destroyed."

Jim just gaped at him in disbelief. "But we saved it. And he was emotionally compromised. That's got to count for something right?"

"Yeah, it means that he wasn't outright court-martialed. They're reviewing the events right now. But it doesn't look good according to rumors."

"But his planet had just been destroyed, his mother died right in front of him. And I was able to stop him."

"Jim." Bones paused. "I think you're too involved in this to see clearly. Yes your points are valid. But try to look at it from Command's eyes. He assaulted a fellow officer. They saw my report. Don't give me that look. I wasn't going to lie for that green-blooded hobgoblin after what he did to you, no matter the situation. And his actions…" He paused as Jim sat up. "What are you doing?"

"Springing myself. What's it look like? And you're helping. We have a meeting to crash."

"Dammit, Jim. What are you planning on doing? Throwing yourself at their mercy? Didn't you hear a word I said? They're gunning for you and this would be the perfect thing to add fuel to their fire. Don't do this."

Through McCoy's lecture, Jim shut the door, and began opening and closing the cabinets around the room, grumbling about hospital gowns and easy access, and not practical to barge into a meeting while wearing them. Coming up empty handed, he turned to find Bones staring at him. "Done ranting yet? Go find me some clothes, or I'll leave in this, and you know I will."

Bones grumbled and went looking, knowing that Jim wasn't bluffing, having seen it before. Raiding the storeroom, he found some spare sets of clean scrubs, grabbed a pink one out of spite, and hurried back before Jim got impatient and left without him. Throwing the bundle at Jim, who just raised an eyebrow at the color, Bones hastily turned around as Jim stripped out of the robe, completely unabashed by his nudity. As long as he'd roomed with the other man, Bones thought that he'd be used to Jim's lack of modesty by now, but apparently not.

Hearing the door open, he turned to find Jim already dressed, impatiently waiting for him, giving him the patented 'hurry up, you're wasting my time' look. McCoy sighed and followed him, wondering just what he was getting himself into this time. His life had been so much simpler before Jim. (But so very boring, a part of his brain told him. He told it to shut up. He liked boring.) "So where the hell are we going anyway? Or do I even want to know what harebrained scheme you dreamt up this time?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quickly walking through a maze of halls that he'd never had the need to enter, Bones wondered just how the hell Jim knew where he was going. He also wondered if he was about to kiss his career goodbye. Finally stopping at a door, he a moment to read the plague on the outside 'Fleet Admiral Jonathan Archer' before entering a door and being told by the secretary that Archer was busy and that they would need an appointment to see him. He apologized profusely to her as Jim barged though the next set of doors to where Admiral Archer and who knows who else were meeting, and knew this was the end of his career.

Jim was surprised to find that the office was only occupied by Archer and wondering what the hell was going on.

Archer told the still screeching secretary, "Melissa, no, don't call security. Please excuse them. I was expecting them. Please close and lock the door behind you, and hold all calls for the time being."

Once the door closed, Jim let loose. "What the hell are you playing at, old man?"

Bones winced, slapped his hand over Jim's mouth, and interjected, "He didn't mean that, Admiral Archer, sir." Then turn Jim. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"Yes, he did. Dr. McCoy, let him speak. You'll get your say too." Bones straightened at his name, and wondered why he needed a say, but while he was not happy about it, he did as he was told, and dropped his hand.

Jim shot Bones a dirty look. "You can't discharge Spock. I won't work with anyone else as my First Officer. It's either both of us or neither of us."

The smile that crossed the old man's face put Bones ill at ease and he had to ask. "Pardon my language. With all due respect sir, what the hell is going on here?"

"Don't lose that spunk, kid. Now that little rumor going around is just that, a rumor."

McCoy's grabbed Jim's arm as he felt him tense next to him, hoping to restrain him before he did anything rash (well more rash than he already had).

"Commander Spock was never any danger of being discharged. In fact, we tried to offer him a Captaincy, but he turned it down, citing the reasons circulated in the rumor, and handed me his resignation."

Jim let out a startled, "He what?!"

"I understand his reasons but I of course didn't accept it. So if you want him, it falls on your shoulders to convince him to stay. You have until the Enterprise departs in two months time. If he isn't on it, I'll appoint someone for you."

Bones finally spoke, barely restrained fury in his voice. "Is this some kind of a game to you? An old man meddling in everyone's lives because he's bored? If Spock wants to resign that's his choice, and I'm sure he has good reasons."

Addressing McCoy, he began, "I've lived a long time, seen the world change around me, as I remained unchanged. Some of the changes were good and others not so good. I've seen hundreds of Captains both good and bad, but few were great." Turning to Jim, he continued, "I see that greatness in you, but what makes a great captain different from all the others is his command team. This is something that's gone to the wayside over the years, but I believe it's invaluable. A Captain with a good command team can do extraordinary things, but they can also ground him, and keep him on track. They can't be afraid to tell him he's wrong, but when he's right they'll back him against all odds. That's what Starfleet is missing. That is what I see in you."

Bones didn't look convinced, and poor Jim just looked confused. "I don't understand."

Archer just smiled. "You'll understand in time. Now get out of here and go convince that Vulcan that he's where he's needed. Also, apologize to Melissa on your way out. You'd better send her a nice gift as well. It's so nice hard to find a competent secretary these days, and I don't want to lose her. "

Neither man noticed as Spock's future counterpart stepped out from behind a door, or the conspiratorial glance the two men shared.

Bones dragged the still-flabbergasted Jim from the office, apologizing to Melissa as he went, though she didn't respond other than a small huff of dismissal.

After a silent walk, they finally made it outside the building. Jim commented, "Well, that was interesting."

Bones just sent him a 'well no shit, doofus' look. "I knew I shouldn't have joined the military. They told me it was safe and drama free, but of course I get dragged into plots and politics."

Jim grinned, "It's not that bad. Now let's go find a Vulcan."

McCoy raised his hand and tried to back way. "Oh no, no, no. You want him as your First Officer. You convince him. Don't expect me to help."

Jim gave him the puppy dog eyes. "You heard Archer. We're all part of that command team. You have to be part of this too." Grabbing Bones' arm, Jim dragged the man along despite his protests.


	4. The Tripping Place

Classes started up again shortly after they arrived back to Earth, and they were a nightmare. Sure, he had his fair share of attention before, but the whole savior-of-the-Earth poster boy thing got old real fast, and there was no way for him to avoid it. The once-packed lecture halls were now so empty that after the first few awkward sessions they were moved to small classrooms, but that only helped to serve as an even greater reminder of the reason why so many were absent.

Out of Jim's eight classes, only three of them were taught by the same teachers that had taught them before they'd been called away to Vulcan. The instructors that were left were doubling and sometimes even tripling or quadrupling their class loads to pick up the slack of the missing professors. A number of civilian instructors were even brought in fill the gaps that the current faculty could not.

The grief was a constant bombardment to his shields, and at the end of the day he was left drained and exhausted. After the second sleepless night filled with tears and nightmares, Bones told him to stop being an idiot and get into his bed, so they could both get some sleep. Jim did as he always did and swallowed his pride and did as he was told, knowing that the other man was hurting too, but had too much pride to ask for help. If Bones had taught him one thing, it was that there was no shame in needing someone.

One of his classes had been postponed for a week for unknown reasons, so he was shocked when he walked into the room to find Spock of all people standing at the front of the room. But when he thought about it, it made sense. The man had needed time to be debriefed and questioned, as well as time to prepare for the new classes he had to teach. He knew that despite the man's resignation, he was still bound by his contract to teach the remainder of the semester.

When he arrived, the class was too full for Jim to say anything, but the fact that the Vulcan didn't acknowledge him, not even for to call on him for answers, ticked Jim off to no end. When the bell finally rang announcing the end of class, he stayed in his seat as the rest of the room's occupants hurriedly gathered their materials and all but ran from the room. While it was true that Commander Spock's way of teaching was a bit different than that of most professors and his intolerance of rule breakers was legendary, Jim didn't understand the fear that so many had for him. Jim mused that maybe it was him that was weird since Spock had tried to expel him and then kill him, and he didn't hold an ounce of fear for him.

Seeing the shadow pass over his desk, he looked up to see Spock standing over him, face as impassive as ever. "Is there something you needed, Cadet Kirk?"

Jim knew the title was a jibe and from most anyone else would have commented on it, but didn't see the point here. "Oh, so you do remember me. And here I was thinking that you'd forgotten me already. Or maybe I'm just special, and that's why you've chosen to ignore me today."

"While there is no need to inflate your overgrown ego, it would be unlikely I would ever forget you. Given that you have had firsthand experience with much of the material that we covered today, I thought it was best to challenge those that did not already know the answers. As you say I was not 'ignoring' you. Now if that is all you wished to discuss, then I suggest you hurry to your next class or you will be late, and I will not provide you with a pass." Spock turned away before Jim could answer, and before he thought it through his hand shot out, grabbing the Vulcan's bare wrist, ignoring the way the man tensed.

"Oh yeah. I'm sure that's the only reason. It has nothing to do with your feelings for me. Our time together on the Enterprise meant nothing to you. Of course not. You never do anything that's not proper and logical, do you?" Jim cursed his foot in the mouth syndrome as Spock tensed even more. He felt the sudden rage radiating from the Vulcan and fought not to flinch back from the intensity of the feeling.

"As your view of me is quite clear, remove your hand this instance, or I shall remove it for you." Spock's voice was so icy despite the overpowering heat of his rage, and fought the urge to shiver.

But Jim didn't let go. "Look, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't come here to fight you. I thought we'd made progress. I'm just pissed that you ignored me. I don't do well being ignored."

"Obviously a skill you should begin to foster," the Vulcan intoned, and while he did not relax at all, he did attempt to pull away. "Again I ask: was there something you needed?"

Jim ducked his head sheepishly and cursed himself an idiot. This wasn't how he's planned this. Well he hadn't really planned this, but none of his outcomes went like this. Straightening himself to his full height, he met the Vulcan's eyes unflinchingly. "As Captain of the Enterprise, I formally request your presence aboard as my First Officer and lead Science Officer."

Jim could almost imagine the slight crinkle of surprise at the corner of those expressive eyes, or maybe Jim was just picking up on the man's surprise through his touch, but either way he didn't expect Spock to flat out refuse so fast.

"Thank you for the offer, but I regret to inform you that I cannot accept the position. I have already presented my resignation to the Admiralty, and shall take my leave to help with the rebuilding of Vulcan civilization as soon as classes are finished."

"Oh, bullshit. I've seen how they treat you, like a pariah because of your mixed blood. Do you think I didn't see it on the ship? Even with so much death, they still couldn't accept you. Do you really want to martyr yourself for them? You have so much more to offer here. Starfleet can offer you so much more. We were a great team. You can't deny that. We can do great things together. What kind of life would you lead there? Your skills would be wasted. You wouldn't be happy there."

"Be that as it may, it is unrelated to the situation. My happiness is irrelevant. I have long since come to terms with how others view me and it is of no consequence. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. I shall fulfill my duty to my race. I do not want to hear anymore on this subject. Now if that is all, I shall take my leave."

Before Jim had a chance to protest, Spock pulled his wrist from Jim's grasp as though it was nothing, which to the Vulcan it probably wasn't, and was out the door faster than Jim had thought possible. Jim just blinked and cursed aloud. That could have gone better. But then it could have gone worse.

Still grumbling, Jim gathered up his books and went to meet Bones, who was probably pissed that he was late. It wasn't anything new, but this time he really had a good excuse. When he saw Bones across the quad and the scowl that the older man wore, he briefly considered turning tail and running because it wasn't often that he saw the doctor's face so dark, and as far as he knew he hadn't done anything to deserve it for once. But Bones saw him while he wasted time being indecisive and it was too late, so Jim walked over to his friend with all the enthusiasm of a man about to meet the firing squad.

Jim opened his mouth to voice a greeting, but abruptly closed it as Bones grabbed his arm and started pulling him along.

Bones' growled, "God dammit, Jim. If you're going to convince that copper-blooded machine to be your First Officer, you need to not get yourself kicked out of his class."

Jim stumbled as his feet tried to stop in their place, but Bones continued dragging him along, as he squawked, "What?!"

"Commander Spock wanted me to inform you that he was giving you an automatic pass in his class, as you had proven you had already mastered all the material and that there was nothing more that he could teach you, so there was no reason for you to return to the class. He informed me that all the paperwork would be taken care of before the evening. Dammit, man, what did you do this time?"

Jim knew he was doing a great impression of a fish, but couldn't help it. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't thought that he'd upset the Vulcan this much and didn't understand why he would do this. "Um, I may have put my foot in my mouth." A Bones' dark look, Jim hurriedly continued on. "But I apologized! It didn't go that bad. I just need to work on wearing him down. I know that given time, I'll be able to convince him. He'll see."

Bones didn't look so convinced. "Well, given his actions, I don't think he's impressed, or planning on changing his mind anytime soon, so you better start thinking about changing your strategy. Come on. I'm starving. You can discuss your mad genius plans over dinner."

Jim sighed and agreed. But they didn't talk about it over dinner. The mood in the mess hall was too depressing, and he did more playing with his food than actual eating. He wasn't sure if he even managed more than a bite or two. After ten uncomfortable minutes, he abruptly stood and deposited his tray in the receptacle, telling Bones that he "needed some air."

The doctor looked ready to follow or argue, but gave in, but not before giving Jim the look that said that they'd talk later. Jim nodded, knowing his friend would hold him to it and not wanting to argue right now.

Jim just walked, not paying attention to where he was going until one of his professors addressed him in greeting. Startled, he looked around and realized he'd walked farther than he'd realized and was outside the apartment set aside for instructors. He turned a circle wondering why his feet led him here, of all places, as he'd never been here before.

Suddenly seeing Uhura stepping out of one of the buildings, he wasn't sure who was more surprised, him or her. She flushed under her dark complexion, but didn't act ashamed and gave him a look that dared him to say anything. Jim just inclined his head in greeting and gave her a small sad smile. She looked startled, but returned it. He didn't expect her to walk towards him and wondered what she was doing.

He wasn't sure what surprised him more, her words or the following actions.

Stepping in front of him, she tilted her chin up to look at him before saying, "While I don't like everything you did, and am still pissed at you, I never got a chance to thank you." His eyes went wide as she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Jim." And then she turned and walked away, back straight and head held high.

A motion in a window above him caught his eye. Glancing up, he froze as he met Spock's unreadable gaze, wondering how much the Vulcan had seen and what the man was going to do about it. When he disappeared from the window, Jim did a quick count and mental measurement and entered the building. Knocking on a door, he held his breath and hoped he'd chosen right. A full minute passed with no sound or motion from inside.

Sighing in defeat Jim turned around, not letting himself give into the urge to just break in, particularly since he knew Spock was inside. He gasped as the door suddenly sprung open and then yelped as a hand landed on his shoulder and yanked him inside. The door was ceremoniously closed and locked and he barely had a chance to draw a breath for words, before he was slammed back against the wall of the hallway and the breath whooshed out of him just as quickly.

He squeezed his eyes shut expecting a punch, but as the seconds ticked by and none came, he hesitantly opened one eye and then the other. Spock was standing stoically before him, hand still slightly gripping his shoulder, eyes drilling into him as though searching for all the answers in the universe, and finding him lacking.

When Spock made no move to talk or let him go, his voice cut sharp through the growing tension, "If you're going to hit me, can you get on with it. This waiting in suspense thing is not cool."

Jim felt Spock's already racing heart increase through the touch on his shoulder, and the man released him suddenly as if he'd been burned, taking a step back.

"Why would I hit you?"

Jim couldn't stop the words. "Because your girlfriend kissed me?"

Jim gulped.

But Spock didn't react. "What she is to me is of no concern to you. Her actions are her own."

"So does that mean you aren't mad?"

"Vulcans do not get 'mad'."

Jim just stared at him in disbelief. "Then what do you call what happened on the bridge?"

"A momentary lapse of control."

Jim just stared at the Vulcan as though he'd grown a second head, not believing how full of shit the Vulcan could get. Impulsively he asked, "Want to play chess? You do have a chess board, right?"

Jim almost laughed as he picked up on Spock's surprise and intrigue.

"Very well. Follow me."

Jim followed Spock down the hall into the main living area, and stood awkwardly as he motioned him to stay. The man disappeared through a doorway only to reappear a moment later with a 3D chess set. Jim grinned at the prospect, not having played that version of the game in years and then wondered what the hell he was doing here.

The game was quickly set up, and Spock said, "I believe it is your turn to begin."

Jim nodded and took the first move. As usual there was very little talking except the occasional comment on a certain move from Spock and Jim's crowing when he took a piece. Also as was usual with their games, he didn't notice how much time had passed until Bones' called his comm and asked where the hell he was.

Jim looked at the time was shocked. "Shit, Spock, I'm sorry. You probably had plans or things to do tonight, and I wasted your evening."

Spock just stared at him across the board. "As a Vulcan I am always conscious of the time. I had no plans and no work that was of high priority."

Jim unexpectedly yawned hugely, and had the grace to look embarrassed, but Spock just continued on.

"I also do not require nearly as much sleep as humans, so I have a number of hours before I need to rest, and thus a number of hours in which I can still work."

Jim's eyes widened at the man's next words. "Seeing the late hour, if you so desire, you can sleep on the couch. I have extra blankets."

Jim didn't know what to make of the offer or how to respond, but finally found himself rejecting the offer. "Wow, sir, thanks for the offer. But I really do need to get back to my place. Bones will probably have a cow if I don't, and I still have a paper I need to finish." He winced as he remembered. "Shit, I'm not going to get any sleep."

"Procrastination is not an exemplary skill of a Captain. I hope you hasten to rid yourself of such a weakness. If you wish to get back to your residence before curfew, I suggest you leave now, as I will not offer an excuse for you. And do not think that your status would keep you out of trouble. As a student of this Academy there are no exceptions."

"There are always exceptions. And of course you won't," Jim just grumbled and scowled at the man, who had no place to talk as he didn't know the details or what it was like to take so many classes at once. Walking towards the door, he paused at Spock's next words.

"Seeing as how I have not had a chance to file the paperwork with your course waiver yet, I expect to see you in class tomorrow."

Jim grinned hugely. "Of course, sir!"

Opening the door, he stepped into the hall and was about to close the door behind him, when Spock's voice made him pause again.

"I also expect to see you here at the same time tomorrow evening to continue our game."

Jim stuck his head back in the door and shot off a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

Jim practically skipped his way home, and even Bones' scowl couldn't keep the spring out of his step or deflate his sails, not even when the man started growling.

"You should have called."

"Jesus, Bones. Calm down. I told you I just lost track of time."

Bones just looked at him skeptically, and then gave him that look. "So who was she?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Who was who?"

"God dammit, Jim. Don't play games right now. You know I worry about you."

Jim suddenly felt guilty because it was true. His friend put up with more than his fair share of shit, and still hadn't run off yet, which Jim was thankful for, but couldn't help but wonder when the other shoe would drop as had always happened in the past. Turning to face Bones, he said, "I wasn't out with anyone."

He continued despite Bones' disbelieving gaze. "Not in the way you mean. I was with Spock."

Jim eyes went wide, and he fought the urge to cover his ears as Bones exploded, "What?"

"Fuck, Bones! Not like that! We just played chess, same as we did on the ship. It was great. We mixed it up this time and played 3D chess. First time I've played it in years."

Jim suddenly stopped talking and backed up as a tricorder suddenly appeared in McCoy's hand and the doctor moved towards him. "What the hell, Bones?"

"I need to check and make sure you aren't suffering from a brain parasite because you're talking crazy."

"Haha, very funny, Bones. Seriously quit it. I have a plan."

Bones reluctantly lowered the device and looked at Jim skeptically. "You have a plan," he repeated.

Jim just laughed and said defensively, "Hey, they aren't all bad. Look at the last one. We managed to save the planet."

"Uh huh," McCoy nodded, still skeptical. "So tell me this all powerful, master plan."

"I'm going to be his friend."

Bones waited.

And waited.

And finally. "That's it?"

Jim looked uncomfortable. "Um, yeah."

"Wow. That's lame even for you."

"Hey!" Jim protested. "That's not nice."

"When have you even known me to be nice?"

Jim laughed. "Point." Looking at the time he groaned. "Shit. I still have to finish that paper."

Bones laughed. "I told you putting it off was going to come back and bite you in the ass. I'm going to bed, so keep quiet."

"Gee, thanks for the support, asshole."

"Anytime."

"Love you too."

"Back at you."

The following day sucked hard. He hadn't realized how sleep deprived he'd been lately until he got even less sleep than normal. He wondered when almost no sleep had become 'normal' and if he should be worried. He knew it was a stupid move to fall asleep when he had to be up two hours later, but even knowing that he'd probably feel like crap, the prospect of some sleep was just too tempting and gave in. He'd looked forward to the reprieve that Spock's class would be, but again he couldn't be that lucky. Today Spock, being the evil slave driver that he was, called on Jim every chance he got, and then told him to stay after class.

Ignoring the sympathetic glances of his classmates he did as he was told, too tired to care what sort of reprimand the Vulcan would bestow on him. He was surprised when the Vulcan instead told him to go home and sleep, and that they could finish their game at a later date. Jim of course protested, saying some food and coffee would do him good, and before the Vulcan could dissuade him went off to do just that.

The food and coffee hadn't helped him as much as he'd thought and he'd brushed off Bones' hounding about getting some sleep, and the dangers of consuming so much caffeine. He was a big boy. He'd been taking care of himself for years. Standing outside Spock's door, he knocked quietly, debating the smartness of this, even the saneness of this, if he shouldn't have just gone home and slept it off. But he said he was going to be there, and he wasn't one to go back on his word.

Spock opened the door the instant his hand met the wood this time, and he blinked stupidly at the man. It was the first time he'd seen the Vulcan out of uniform. The t-shirt wasn't surprising, and while his bare feet were slightly more so, they were not the draw of Jim's fascination. No, it was the sight of the faded blue jeans that encased that man's impossibly long legs, threadbare in a way that only long use and many washing could provide.

Not realizing that he'd been staring so long, he dragged his gaze up to Spock's face and the man's almost defensive words.

"They are comfortable and were a gift from my mother."

Jim raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, man no need to be defensive. Your mother had good taste. It's just I've never had the good fortune to see a Vulcan wearing them. They look great. You should wear them out sometime."

Spock stared at him for a moment, before backing into the apartment, giving Jim room to enter. "I am unsure if you are being facetious or serious. The subtleties of human humor are beyond me."

"Hey, I don't lie." At Spock's droll look, he continued. "unless the situation calls for it, which it does not. Hey, I could teach you about humor."

"Others have attempted to do so in the past and have failed. While I do believe you are capable of it, I do not see the necessity for me to learn such a skill."

Jim whistled. "Wow, I never thought I'd see the day that a Vulcan would pass up the chance to gain more knowledge."

Spock's brow rose, and he said, "Very well, but at a later time. We have a game to finish." He motioned towards the still set game from the night before.

Jim grinned at his luck. This was going to be fun. "I'll hold you to it."

Sitting down, they picked up where they'd left off the night before, but between the increasingly frequent, massive yawns that escaped him despite his best efforts to smother them, Jim realized that he was doing extremely poorly, and between one move and the next he closed his eyes for a moment. He startled when he felt himself being lowered but was hushed as his head hit the pillow and his legs joined him on the couch. He had a brief moment to realize a blanket was being tucked around him before sleep swept him away.

When he next awoke, he was disoriented and the first thing he noticed was that he was massively hot as he struggled to get rid of the offending blanket. He realized he wasn't in his bed at the same instant he realized he was still fully clothed and he rolled off the couch to hit the floor with a painful thud.

Groaning as the air was knocked out of him, he froze when he saw a pair of feet appear before his eyes. Following those feet up, he winced in embarrassment as he realized that it was Spock. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep like that in the middle of the game. He struggled to get to his feet, but the blanket was still wrapped stubbornly around them.

He froze as Spock crouched down next to him and deftly untangled the offending blanket. When his feet were free, he was surprised when Spock straightened and offered him his hand. He stared dumbly at the proffered hand for a minute before he took it and was swiftly pulled to his feet as though he weighed nothing. But then again, Vulcans were three times stronger than humans.

"I'm so sorry for falling asleep on you like that. You should have kicked me out." Jim said, still embarrassed over the situation.

"It was no hardship for you to sleep here. Why would I 'kick you out' when you were comfortable where you were?"

Jim sighed, in no way awake enough for this conversation. "Look, I get the logic, but people do not usually let strangers sleep over."

Spock just stared at him. "You are not a stranger."

Jim bit back a growl. "Don't be obtuse. You know what I mean. You don't know me."

"I know you," Spock replied.

Jim's brow raised in challenge.

And Spock surprised him, "You are the son of George Kirk, but do not wish to be shackled to his name. You wish to be known for your own prowess. You are a genius that hides behind masks of careless promiscuity and easy smiles. Your record as a ne'er do well is the result of boredom and wasted talents. You—"

Jim felt himself go pale at the man's words, how apparently transparent he was to the Vulcan. And then the anger set in. "That's enough!" he demanded. "You're one to talk about wasted talents. What do you think you'll be doing wherever the Vulcans decide to settle? They'll have you calculating crop chances and weather cycles for the rest of your life. Is that really the life you want? I at least realized that I was wasting my life. I can't let you do the same."

Spock didn't so much as blink during Jim's tirade. "You do not allow me to do anything. My choices are my own."

Jim opened his mouth to protest but paused as Spock continued.

"However, I will agree to think more on the matter if you will agree to not bring it up again."

Jim eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know you haven't already made up your mind on this?"

"Vulcans do not lie."

Jim was not impressed.

"There is no such thing as a certainty."

That sounded better to Jim's ears and he nodded.

"Very well. Would you care for some breakfast? I am currently making Krentjebrij. I believe you will find it pleasing."

"Krentjebrij?" Jim questioned, proud that he didn't completely butcher the foreign word.

"It's a kind of fruit soup from the Netherlands made from berries and barley cooked to a mush. It has the consistency of oatmeal. Please take a seat. I do not have coffee, but can offer tea."

Jim sat and while he wasn't sure about the 'fruit soup', it smelt good at least. "Tea's great, thanks."

Spock went into the kitchen and began rummaging around, and Jim was left to his own devices and became lost in thought. Jim wasn't sure what was going on here. He was used to being in control, and things here were rapidly spiraling out of control. Yes, the plan was to make friends with Spock, but he hadn't expected the man to know him so well already, to be so good at observing people. Jim counted on people underestimating him. He knew that wasn't possible with Spock and that scared him.

He jumped and then smiled sheepishly in thanks as Spock set a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Taking a tentative sniff, he risked a small sip when nothing overpowered his nose. Well, the tea was weaker than he normally cared for, but it was hot and had caffeine so he couldn't complain. When a steaming bowl of purple mush appeared in front of him a moment later, his stomach suddenly made itself known by growling hungrily in approval.

As Spock took the seat across from his and began eating his meal, Jim hesitantly poked at his, as though expecting it to poke back. Giving in, Jim dug his spoon in and took a hesitant bite. He was pleasantly surprised. It wasn't bad. The texture wasn't quite like anything he'd ever had before. The closest thing he could come up with was rice pudding, but even that wasn't right, so he gave up trying to classify it and just enjoyed it.

When the bowl was empty he looked at it rather sadly for a moment. Spock finished his own, then taking both bowls disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, only to reappear with bowls full again.

"Thanks!" Jim said as he grabbed his and dug in. Now that his hunger was satisfied he took his time to savor the meal. It was growing on him, and he decided that he needed to get the recipe from Spock and if nothing else, program his replicator to make it. He frowned in distaste at the thought as he was one of the people that found the food and drink it produced to be lacking. He wasn't sure that he bought into the hype that 'love' was missing from it, but there definitely was something missing from replicated consumables.

When they both finished this time, Jim gathered up the dishes despite Spock's attempts to try and help. "You cooked, so I'm cleaning. Don't argue."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim knew there was something strange going on with his First Officer (he couldn't allow himself to believe that Spock wasn't going to fill the position), had been for months now. It was nothing major, never anything worth commenting about, but Jim felt he knew Spock well enough to know that something was going on with the Vulcan. While he had nothing to go on but his gut instincts, something told him that this was important. He asked Bones to keep an eye on him and his habits, but the doctor saw Spock even less than Jim did and so far he hadn't been able to pinpoint anything that could be wrong or that was significantly different. There were little shifts in diet, sleep time, rec time, and work output, but even all put together it wasn't enough to raise the alarm.

But still Jim watched. When the night came that Spock was late for their usual chess game he grew worried and those worries were not staunched by the Vulcan's obvious distraction during their game. After that Jim really began to watch him, taking note of his actions and being careful not to be too overt in his observations. He began to notice the way that the man would occasionally scrunch his nose up as though in distaste or the small tilts of his head as though he was listening or looking at something far away. Then there were the small pauses, barely noticeable, that occasionally happened when called on for a report, but they were there.

Taking his concerns to Bones, his friend just laughed at him, and told him maybe it was time he started looking for another habit because Spock-watching had obviously begun to addle his brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following two months flew by quicker than Jim imagined they would, even as impatient as he was to get back on the Enterprise. Classes were a breeze, but the number of papers and assignments he had to write were ridiculous. He didn't understand why he had to work out the same type of problem hundreds of times when he had proven himself capable of answering them the first few times. Repetition had its uses, but it was a waste of time here. When he wasn't in classes, working on assignments, or sleeping, he was over at Spock's, or trying to drag Bones over to Spock, but so far the man had begged off every time, conveniently getting called away to the point that Jim knew that it was more than a mere coincidence.

Jim kept his word and didn't bring up the matter of Spock as his First Officer as he'd promised, but it was often at the forefront of his mind. While they often played chess, that wasn't all they did. Jim had known the man was smart; despite his dislike of the Kobayashi Maru, he had to admit it was a masterpiece. When he'd gone over the programming to insert his subroutine he might have drooled a little. Spock was a Vulcan after all, but Jim knew that Spock also wouldn't have made it as far as he had at such a young age without being exceedingly gifted.

So Jim was pleasantly surprised when he found out the man had a great deal of knowledge on Earth's history. Not only could he hold conversations with Spock about the newest warp technology, quantum mechanics, and astrophysics, but also on mythology, philosophy, psychology, and even music and the arts. He was delighted to learn that the Vulcan enjoyed reading paper books as much as he did, despite the illogicalness of them taking up so much space when a whole library could fit onto a PADD. Jim just smiled and said that things didn't need to be logical for you to enjoy them.

Finals were a joke, and Jim wasn't even attending his own graduation as the Enterprise was scheduled to ship out the day after finals ended. He took his seat with equal parts excitement and apprehension. Spock had never given him an answer, but Archer hadn't sent a replacement, so Jim knew there was still a chance. He couldn't help but smile as Spock walked onto the bridge, and his grin threatened to split his face as the Vulcan offered to provide character references. Jim shared a conspiratorial smile with Bones and couldn't help but feel that things were finally as they should be.


	5. The Tripping Place

Things had gone smoothly, perhaps a little too smoothly until the first wrench was thrown into the works four months into their five years mission. Jim knew that he shouldn't be there, that he had a million other things he should be attending to, but receiving word that his First Officer had gone comatose as soon as he'd been beamed down the planet's surface had sent Jim straight to sickbay despite knowing that he'd just be in a way and was safe in Bones' skilled hands. So far Spock seemed to be the only one affected, but the rest of the surface party was quarantined as well despite their complaints. Policy was better to err on the side of caution rather than allow a possible illness or contaminant to affect the ship.

Jim was worried when Bones informed him from behind the glass that he couldn't find a reason for Spock's state. All the tests came back negative, except scans showed that there was increased neurological activity that seemed contrary to Spock's currently seemingly comatose state. As Bones was talking the monitors suddenly screamed and Jim turned around fearing the worse, but was surprised to see Spock's eyes open and staring at him. Bones rushed over and gave him a sedative as the monitors showed his heart rate and blood pressure reaching dangerous levels, and the screeching immediately stopped.

But now it was Jim's heart that was racing, wondering what was wrong with his friend and First Officer. After watching Bones do another set of tests, the doctor informed him that whatever was causing his odd brain activity seemed to have passed. Bones told Jim to go and get some rest as Spock wasn't going to be awake anytime soon, and Jim grudgingly did as he was told.

He stopped by the next morning before his shift to check on Spock. As he approached the glass barrier, he was startled as Spock's eyes snapped open and locked with his almost as if the Vulcan had sensed him. "Mr. Spock, how are you feeling?"

"I am well, Captain. I must admit, I do not have memories of how I ended up here. The last thing I recall is beaming down to the planet." Spock sat up slowly, causing the pile of blankets to pool in his lap.

"I assume you haven't talked to Bones yet?" At Spock's headshake, Jim continued on. "You passed out on us as soon as you set foot on the surface, Spock. The cause is unknown and scans did not pick up anything abnormal except some increased neurological activity. None of the other crewmembers appear to be affected, but we've quarantined you all as a precaution. Have you been experiencing any symptoms before this?"

There was an almost indiscernible pause, anyone that didn't know the man wouldn't have noticed, before Spock answered. "No, Captain. My health is exceptional."

Jim gave him a hard look, knowing that Vulcans, or at least this particular Vulcan could and would lie, and yes Spock looked vaguely uncomfortable with the question, but Jim hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Spock had been different since the loss of his planet, but it was to be expected. Spock was his normal efficient self on the bridge and still appeared for their chess games. For now Jim would let it slide, but he would be keeping a close eye on the Vulcan.

Jim nodded, "I'm glad to hear it. I need to call Bones. He won't be pleased that he wasn't informed the instant you woke up. And the Alpha shift starts soon. I need to be on my way."

Spock nodded. "Of course, Captain. Do not be late because of me. There is no need to worry."

Jim didn't need to call Bones as the man walked in the door just as he was about to. Informing him that Spock was awake and seemed fine he made his way to the bridge. However, despite Spock's insistence that all was fine, he could not help but worry.

Despite Bones' tests, he was unable to find the cause of Spock's episode, and a week later the Vulcan was released with the rest of the quarantined crew. Bones wasn't so convinced that there was nothing wrong with the Vulcan, and when he shared his concerns with his Captain, Jim kept an even closer eye on his First Officer than he already had been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first sign that something was still off happened a week later when Spock snapped at an unsuspecting Ensign for forgetting to submit a report, going so far as to say that their incompetence could have endangered the ship, had the report been important. The chastised Ensign looked ready to either start crying and run or piss his pants and faint.

"Spock," Jim had snapped. He had gone too far.

Spock had turned towards him, and Jim was shocked by the naked rage on his first officer's face.

Spock apologized and ran off before Jim could stop him, and then spent the next few days avoiding him, which took some talent and effort given the fact that they shared many shifts. When Jim finally cornered him, the Vulcan was tightlipped, and would say nothing other than that he was sorry and it was a temporary lapse of control. That gave Jim pause and increased his worry as that was the same phrase his friend had used when speaking of the incident between them on the bridge during the Narada incident when Spock had nearly killed him.

A few weeks passed with no incident, but that all changed the day that Spock didn't show up on the bridge for his scheduled shift. Paging the Vulcan's quarters, there was no response despite the computer informing him that Spock was inside. Jim handed over the command and ran, feeling a rush of alarm as he called Bones to meet him in Spock's quarters with a medical team.

He got there first, hurriedly overrode the lock, and impatiently darted through the door as soon as it slid open. Finding the room dark he ordered, "Lights 50%." Blinking at the sudden change, he was surprised to see Spock apparently meditating in the middle of the room with eyes wide open but unseeing. It was unnerving. "Spock?" he hesitantly called. Getting no response, he moved forward, and knelt down to touch the man.

Realizing that Spock was shockingly cool even for a Vulcan, he felt for a pulse and panicked when he found that it was almost human slow, way too slow for a Vulcan, and he saw that despite his deep and even breathing it was also exceedingly slow. At first glance he could almost imagine that this was meditation, but something was off and Spock should have realized someone was there if it truly had been one. He cursed, wondering what was taking medical so long, and shook the Vulcan trying to pull him out of whatever it was that he was stuck in. "Spock. Come on. Snap out of this. We'll figure out what wrong and fix it. Spock, please. We need you."

Spock suddenly inhaled deeply, noisily, and his eyes suddenly focused on the man in front of him, clearly dazed and confused. "Jim?"

Suddenly Bones and his team were there, and Bones, pushing Jim out of the way, began checking vitals and issuing orders while Spock was bundled up on a stretcher and out of the room. Jim moved to follow the team, and Bones growled, "If you set foot in my sickbay before your shift ends, I'll sedate you. I don't need you in the way or underfoot. Go back to the bridge."

Jim scowled, but did as instructed. He didn't like being told that he was practically useless, and hated that he didn't have more knowledge of the field. The rest of the shift was spent glancing at the clock and worrying about Spock. He got very little real work done, and he was happy that there hadn't been anything that had required his attention.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bones cursed as the screen went blank. The Vulcans were normally tight lipped about anything related to their health, but the healer he had spoken to hadn't given any indication that she was shocked when he'd asked about pon farr, a topic that he knew to be more than slightly taboo and never discussed with outsiders. It was almost as if she'd expected it. Spock, the one from the future that is, hadn't been available. Knowing it was a long shot, he took a chance in calling Ambassador Sarek, even knowing that Spock would be displeased by his actions.

As Sarek's face appeared on his screen, the Vulcan did not seem shocked to see him and before McCoy could even say a word the Vulcan spoke. "Doctor, my son is experiencing the symptoms as well."

It wasn't a question, but Bones nodded anyway. "I take it you expected a call. What can you tell me?"

Sarek hesitated a moment, as though considering his words. "At first the healers believed it was a mass onset of pon farr, an event that would have reduced our low numbers even further and would have been a dire strike to our dwindling race. After careful analysis of the symptoms, that theory was dismissed. Even with our best doctors working on this, we are no closer to knowing what this affliction is. This malady affects Vulcans from late puberty to those in their prime. No children or adolescents are affected, nor has anyone that has experienced their fifth pon farr. Despite our best efforts we are at a loss, and we fear it is only a matter of time before the deaths begin if we aren't able to find the reason soon."

McCoy considered the information. "I need to see the research."

"As I suspected you would. I have already sent the material. It should arrive shortly."

As if to prove his point Bones' PADD beeped, signaling the reception of a message marked as important.

"Thank you, Ambassador Sarek. I will go over it immediately."

Sarek inclined his head. "Keep me informed." Raising his hand, he intoned. "Live long and prosper."

As the screen went blank, Bones pulled up the data and began reading, making notes here and there, looking up things when needed. The first symptoms noted were obviously the reason why the Vulcans had first thought it was pon farr. The hormonal imbalance and violent outbursts of unrestrained emotions had no other explanation to a Vulcan. But taking into account the other symptoms, the widely fluctuating, out of control senses and the ensuing apparent comas, it led to a very un-Vulcan explanation.

The only possible explanation was so farfetched that Bones wouldn't have believed it if the evidence wasn't right there in front of him. He knew the signs, had the required training, and a considerable amount of experience dealing with them, as was required in his position not only as a doctor but as CMO of a starship. But because Spock was a Vulcan he hadn't considered the possibility. It hadn't even crossed his mind. He should have realized the possibility was there given Spock's half-human status. But even then that didn't explain why it was affecting so many full blooded Vulcans.

They were Sentinels and Guides. Sentinels were individuals who normally after a period of isolation in the wilderness developed heightened senses. It could range from two senses to all five. In ancient times they were called tribal protectors, the watchmen and scouts. Guides were always paired with Sentinels to help them control their senses at first, then later to be used as a baseline to keep them under control. There had long been a sense of mysticism surrounding Guides due to the strangeness of their psi abilities, only recognized for what they really were in the last century. They were considered little more than myth until the late twentieth century, when Dr. Blair Sandburg published his work on the subject, claiming that he was a Guide to a Sentinel with five senses. The idea had been rejected as ludicrous at first, but when more and more people came forward with such senses it quickly became obvious that it was a very real phenomenom.

He was at a loss both by the number awakening, but also because it was a known fact that Vulcan were not Sentinels. It was a well-documented but little studied fact that all of the seeded races had the potential to be Sentinels. That is all races except Vulcans. In all of their carefully detailed post-Surak history there was no mention of Sentinels and with the race's extreme desire for privacy and their tightlippedness about anything to do with their biology, there had very little progress in finding out why. It made little sense because intel told tales of Romulan Sentinels, and given the apparent biological similarities between Romulans and Vulcans, there should have been Vulcan Sentinels.

And now there were. He noted at some level it must be related to some sort of survival instinct, a need to live and protect, a drive that had apparently been all but shut down with the species change from war to pacifism. With a sudden start Bones realized that the Guides were all untrained, they had no way they could understand what was happening. They needed outside help. Making a quick return call to Sarek, he informed the Vulcan of his findings and Sarek agreed that help was needed. Bones agreed to wait and call the Federation until after Sarek was able to arrange a meeting of the Elders and get their input as well. But he knew the clock was ticking. It was time to tell Spock and Jim what he'd found out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Spock's a Sentinel, and Jim I believe he considers you his Guide."

At Bones' proclamation, Jim jerked back from his position at Spock's bedside as if burned, sending his chair crashing into the bed behind it. He looked wildly between Bones and Spock, and then without a backwards glance darted out of door, ignoring Bones' shouts and startling Nurse Chapel so badly she dropped her PADD as he ran out of the sickbay. If he had looked back he would have seen the wounded look that crossed Spock's face before he was able to prevent it, having misinterpreted the fear and self-disgust on Jim's face as fear and disgust instead directed at him.

Jim didn't know where he was going, just that he had to get away. Bones was wrong. Bones had to be wrong. But Jim knew that Bones was rarely wrong. He didn't allow himself to think about it now though. He just had to get away, had to distance himself. He couldn't be what Spock needed. Spock couldn't have chosen him, shouldn't have chosen him. Jim couldn't risk what they had, couldn't risk destroying their friendship and partnership because he was too broken to be what Spock needed.

And he knew he was. Had known since Tarsus. Something wasn't right in him, despite what Bones said. The other doctors had been right; he was defective and broken, unfit to serve as a Guide. His history only proved that.

Jim remembered when his friend had found out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim knew he needed to go out, but classes had kept him busier than usual. The material was dry and well below him, but he'd tested out of the maximum number of courses he could already, and papers didn't write themselves. He'd caught Bones looking at him oddly more than once the past couple days as he got more and more twitchy. He'd hoped that he could make it to the weekend but had waited too long. Jim knew he couldn't put it off any longer despite it being the middle of the week.

He thought he was being crafty when crawled under the covers fully clothed, while his roommate was in the bathroom. When Bones came out he pretended to be asleep as the other man turned off the lights and climbed into his own bed. Long minutes passed as he laid there still and silent listening to the other man's breathing. When it finally evened out into the rhythmic sound of sleep, he waited a few more minutes before he quietly lifted the covers and carefully padded across the room.

Slipping into his shoes near the door, not bothering to tie them, he reached to open the door and nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, yanking it back. He fought down the urge to shout as he spun around, barely able to make out McCoy's outline, yelping, "Bones!"

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bones hissed clearly unhappy.

"Out," Jim said petulantly, trying to shake off Bones' hand. The contact was both too much and not enough, enough to make him itch for more, but not enough to satisfy.

"In the middle of the week, when you have a test in the morning?" Bones asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "What reason do you have to sneak out in the middle of the night like a miscreant?"

Jim had the good grace to look uncomfortable, but didn't back down. "You were supposed to be asleep."

"I would have been if it wasn't obvious you were up to something. I'm a doctor, Jim. I know how to tell the difference between when a person's sleeping and not, and you were obviously not." Bones sighed, obviously tired, and Jim felt briefly guilty for keeping his normally sleep deprived friend up.

"Well, shit." Jim replied, he obviously wasn't thinking right, didn't normally allow it to get this bad, didn't know why he couldn't have just been normal.

"So, you going to tell me what you were doing?" At Jim's silence McCoy pulled him farther back into the room. Stumbling over something in darkness he ordered, "Lights 30%." He blinked at the sudden light, and then froze as he got his first real look at Jim. He was pale and wide-eyed, his pupils so widely dilated that the blue of his irises were barely visible. Jim's hair was plastered to his forehead despite the frigid blasting of the AC, and Bones finally noticed the racing pulse and how tightly wound Jim was as he tried to control the slight tremble of the wrist still in his grasp.

"Dammit, Jim! What the hell are you on? Speed, meth, PCP?" Shoving Jim down onto the bed, he reached for his tricorder.

Jim yelped as he hit the bed and almost fell off the other side. "Dammit, Bones, stop it!" He smacked his hand away as the tricorder got near him. "I'm not on anything," He said, giving Bones an icy look.

By the doctor just ignored him and began his scan. "Well, if you're not on anything then you're sick."

"Seriously, I'm fine. I just need to go out. It's just one of those things that I really need to take care of on my own. There's nothing you can do." Jim was desperate now with Bones so close, so tempting.

He made a move to stand up and Bones promptly pushed him pack down.

It was suddenly all too much. Closing his eyes, Jim abruptly grabbed onto his friend and pulled the man down on top of him. He ignored the sound of the tricorder clattering across the floor and cut off the doctor's startled exclamation by slanting his mouth over Bones'. Shoving his hands under McCoy's shirt he felt instantly relief at the contact. Jim hadn't noticed that Bones had remained frozen on top of him until the man suddenly sagged and kissed him back, forcing his tongue into Jim's mouth.

Jim moaned happily at the reciprocation, but at the sound the body above him abruptly froze and pulled away. Jim's eyes snapped open and locked with Bones who was back up against the wall panting. Jim knew that his own face must have mirrored the growing horror on his friend's. And when McCoy looked away from him in disgust, Jim felt something in his chest break.

Darting to the nearest door, he cursed as he realized it was the bathroom. Locking the door behind him he sank to the floor, pressing up against the wall and pulled his knees close to his chest, making himself as small as possible. He was shaking so hard that his teeth rattled, but he didn't care, didn't fight the tears that streamed down his face. He knew it was too good to last, knew it was only a matter of time before he fucked it up.

Resting his head against the coolness of the tub, he didn't notice the banging on the door or Bones' demands to let him in as he drifted and withdrew further into his mind. He didn't notice the long silence only broken by the occasional curse, nor when the door finally slid open, or the sight of Bones replacing the access panel. He didn't notice the sad, tortured look the older man gave him, or hear the mournful, "Oh, Jim," directed towards him as the man slid to the floor beside him.

Jim did notice the sudden touch to his forehead, brushing his sticky bangs back. Jim's eyes opened wide, and he tried to jerk back from the touch despite how badly he wanted it, needed it, but there's was no place to go trapped as he was between Bones and the tub. And suddenly he was sobbing and babbling broken apologies as he tried to make himself smaller. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. Don't leave me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I couldn't help it. I won't do it again. I promise. I promise. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Bones' reached out hesitantly as though approaching a cornered animal, not sure if he would attack or accept his touch. Jim froze as he touched his arm, but didn't try to pull away. Ever so slowly he wrapped his arm around Jim's shoulder's, giving him every opportunity to stop him. He didn't expect to suddenly find himself with a lapful of limpet, Jim's face pressed almost painfully against his neck. The snot and tears didn't bother him. He dealt with worse on a daily basis as a doctor. He just tightened his hold and petted his hair, wondered what the hell was going on, but knowing better than to force it.

When the shaking finally stopped and the tears gave way to silence, he thought perhaps that Jim had fallen asleep. Shifting to try and find a more comfortable position he jumped when Jim whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jim tried to pull away but McCoy wouldn't let him, afraid he was going to run again, and this time take it outside, and Bones was just too damned tired. He cupped Jim's chin and turned his face to meet his eyes as Jim tried to look anywhere but at him. Bones' chest tightened as the Jim's face shuttered, stealing himself for the worst, and those blue eyes welled with tears again. "Jim, I love you. You're the closest thing to family I have, but I can't do that with you, can't be that for you. I—"

Jim placed his hand over Bones' mouth, stopping whatever he was going to say. "I know. I love you too. I didn't mean to, I couldn't help it. You're the only one that puts up with my shit, and if I lost that I don't know what I'd do." Jim took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not a psi null, Bones."

Bones' eyebrow rose, suddenly not liking where this was going. "But your medical f—"

"I know. They were altered." Jim interrupted, and continued on before the doctor could ask why. "I have one of the highest empathy scores that the doctors had ever seen." Bones' face darkened realizing what that meant. "They were supposed to monitor me, protect me, but they didn't realize it was already too late, and I just slipped through the cracks of the system because of who I was." Jim couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

He started talking and couldn't stop. Told Bones the things he'd never breathed a word to anyone before, about his mom, Frank, Sam, the fights and the beatings, the alcohol, and drugs, and sex. Everything that he'd never been able to share before. He didn't start crying again till he talked about Tarsus IV, when he finally got the guts to look at Bones and saw his friend crying for him, for what he'd been through, something no one had ever done before for him. And then he froze when he remembered the rescue the shrinks and all their psych tests. He bit back the sob that welled from deep, inside of him. "They said that I was broken, that I wasn't fit to be a Guide." And for the first time since he learned that, since they told him that he allowed himself to cry. He couldn't hold back the sob, and he quickly buried his face in McCoy's shirt.

He didn't tell his friend about Quinn, couldn't speak of the tiny, wraithlike girl. There were no tests for Sentinels the experts said, no way to identify them until they appeared they said. But they were wrong. Jim knew the first instance he saw her, tiny, fragile Quinn, that she would grow up to be a Sentinel. And he'd also known the instant he saw her, that she wouldn't live to grow up. She'd been too weak, too sick from starvation. But oh, that didn't mean he hadn't tried. He'd given up his rations for her, known that the others snuck food to her as well, but she hadn't been able to keep it down. And she had just gotten more ill, more frail.

He'd tried to steal some medicine from Kodos' enclave but got caught, and when he'd finally escaped it, he'd gone back with no medication and missing a piece of himself. He hadn't truly expected her to still be alive when he got back, had no way of knowing how long Kodos and his men had had him, though he knew it was a while, but he hadn't truly been surprised when he came back and found her still alive. He'd brushed off the other kids, ignoring their inquiries on where he'd been, what happened, was he hurt?

Kneeing down beside her, he'd brushed her dark curls away from her forehead, grinning slightly as the unruly mass sprung back into place. He'd winced at the sound of air rattling wetly through her lungs, the simple action shaking her entire frame, and carefully took her frail hand in his. Skin so thin it was nearly translucent had hugged her bones and did nothing to hide the vivid streaks of her blue veins, so startling a contrast to the paleness of her skin. Her eyes had opened and she blinked huge grey eyes up at him for a moment before she realized who it was and smiled incredibly.

Jim had angrily blinked and swallowed past the sudden lump in this throat, having promised himself that he wouldn't cry again. But both the feel of her happiness at the sight of him, and her acceptance of her death had been too much to bear. It hadn't been fair, she was too young to die, hadn't even had a chance to live. But if he'd learned anything so far in his short life, it was that life wasn't fair. Tarsus IV just proved that.

"JT," she'd breathed, so soft he might have imagined it. She weakly tugged on him, and he sank down, lowering his head towards hers. "Don't be afraid."

Jim had looked at her not understanding, but she'd just smiled again. Then she'd taken one last rattling breath, let it out and was still. Her hand had gone limp in his, but still she smiled, and he prayed to a god that he didn't believe in that she was at peace as he reached up and closed her eyes with his free hand.

Jim had felt at the time that with her death, she'd taken a part of him with her. Then the doctors had forced themselves into his brain when he refused to talk about it. Appalled by what they'd seen they'd locked part of him away, had said that he was broken, unfit, but gave no explanation as to why.

Bones fury knew no boundaries as he realized how badly the system had failed Jim, what they'd subjected him to. "Aww, kid. They were wrong."

Pulling away from Jim, Bones didn't miss the hurt that crossed his face before it was quickly hidden. But he got a small smile when Jim saw that Bones was just getting up and took his offered hand. Throwing his arm around Jim's shoulder he led them back to the bedroom, and said, "Okay, kid. Lose the clothes." The look on Jim's face might have been comical in any other situation. "Unless you want to sleep in them. It's getting late."

Understanding dawned on him and Jim hurriedly stripped to his boxers as Bones crawled into bed. Turning to get into his own bed, he stopped and turned as Bones called, "Jim."

Bones held up the edge of the blanket. "Get in."

Jim just blinked, not really understanding.

"Come to bed. Just to sleep." He raised the blanket higher.

Jim hesitantly slid in next to him, trying to keep some distance between them still, but Bones crowded closer. He would have fallen off the edge of the bed if the doctor hadn't chosen that moment to lock his arms around him and pull Jim close. Jim's heart raced, and he tensed at the sudden contact pressing along the length of his body.

Long minutes passed before Bones whispered in his ear, "Relax, kid. I gotcha. Just sleep."

And for once Jim did as he was told.


	6. The Tripping Place

But now with the way Spock had looked at him, like he was the most important thing in the world, Jim wanted more of that. And it killed him that he couldn't, wouldn't be that selfish. He knew Spock would regret it, and Jim couldn't live with that.

Finding an empty rec room, he locked it behind him, not wanting company right now. Stripping off his uniform shirt and toeing off his shoes, he circled the old fashioned punching bag, starting off slowly, then speeding up hitting harder and harder, nearly missed jumping out of the way as the inertia caused it to swing back towards him. He didn't let himself think, just feel, worked his muscles till they ached and shook, his hands until they throbbed.

He didn't hear the lock being overridden, didn't noticed anyone else in the room until there were arms suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him away back, leading him away from the bag. And he didn't fight it, panting, exhausted, too numb to think, just feel. The cool water that suddenly rushed over the burning flesh of his fists was a shock to his system and he vaguely realized his hands were covered in red, and briefly wondered what it was from. He glanced at the still swaying bag and noticed odd dark smears and then down to the floor where there were red droplets. Blood, he realized from somewhere far away. It was his blood.

That was when the pain hit him. But he welcomed it, embraced it. It gave him something to focus on, something to latch onto and push everything else away. The water stopped, and the next thing he knew, his hands were swathed in white bandages. He briefly worried about the loss of time and wondered if perhaps he was in shock.

A sudden hypo to the neck brought him back to himself so quickly that he trembled violently and whirled on Bones, but the look of sorrow and understanding on the other doctor's face, cut off any response he may have had.

"You're wrong." Jim denied fervently, pushing away the doctor's hands, trying to run again, needing to get out of here, away from it all.

But Bones wasn't going to let that happen. Grabbing Jim's shoulder, he pushed the man up against the wall. "Jim, no."

Jim struggled weakly against the hold, but was just too drained to put up much effort.

"Jim, look at me."

But Jim refused, clenching his eyes tightly shut and turning his head away, not wanting to look into those eyes and see the truth and the pity that he knew they would contain. Bones couldn't be right, he just couldn't.

As McCoy's grip on his shoulders lessened, Jim would have slid down the wall if the other man hadn't stepped forward, pressing into him and holding him in place. Bones' hands ghosted up over Jim's shoulders and cupped his jaw, thumbs brushing away tears that Jim didn't realize he'd shed.

"Jim. Don't do this. I hate seeing you like this."

The rawness and sorrow in Bones' voice was almost palpable and it touched a place in Jim that made him powerless to ignore it. The man had done so much for him, more than anyone ever had, more than he had imagined anyone capable of doing for him. He owed Bones so much, and could deny his friend nothing.

Slowly Jim's eyes slid open and he blinked rapidly to clear away the tears before he focused on the man in front of him. Instead of the expected pity, he found nothing except sorrow and understanding. There was nothing but truth in that brilliant blue gaze, but swallowing hard about the sudden painful lump in his throat, he denied, "No," trying to shake his head despite Bones' imprisoning grasp of his face.

"Yes, Jim. You're his Guide. They were wrong, Jim. They were wrong," McCoy repeated even knowing that there was no way to make him believe it, that Jim had to realize it himself. This time when Jim sagged, Bones went with him and they ended up in a graceless heap on the floor. Shifting their tangled limbs, he pulled Jim into his lap, amazed at how small the other man could make himself appear when he desired because Jim was no light weight. "Spock chose you. That has to mean something."

But Jim wasn't listening anymore, unable to even bear the thought that the fundamental fact that had shaped his life for over a decade wasn't true. Bones was wrong. Spock was wrong. There was no way they couldn't be. The doctors had said – but Jim cut off that train of thought, not letting himself go there, not wanting to relive it again. For one small moment he let himself hope, but he quickly squished it down, because hope never brought anything but pain. But hope wasn't so easily extinguished.

Bones just held him, rocking slightly, making small soothing sounds, running his hands up and down Jim's back. Brushing back Jim's disheveled bangs he placed a kiss on his forehead, and froze as he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes. Turning his head, he met the smoldering eyes of the resigned Vulcan. Spock gave him a small nod of what McCoy could only label as acceptance, before turning and leaving as quietly as he'd came. Bones had to fight not to call out after him, and cursed the Vulcan for jumping to conclusions, and making his life that much more difficult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spock had heard of Sentinels of course, had even worked with several in his years in Starfleet, but it was not a topic that he had studied extensively. He knew what they were and what they were capable of, but beyond that his knowledge was limited. No records had even documented a Vulcan Sentinel, and to have so many present at once was unprecedented.

Jim's reaction to the news was unexpected. Spock had not realized that the man was anything but a psi null, but hearing that Jim was actually an empath had not really come as a surprise; it explained so many things. But the fear and disgust that filled Jim's eyes at the doctor's proclamation was like a knife to his heart. He had not expected it, did not understand it or know why Jim would run. Spock knew that there was no negative stigma attached to either role, so it had to be something personal. As Spock rose to follow, McCoy's voice stopped him.

"Let me talk to him first."

Spock nodded, and relaxed back into his seat as much as he was able. The doctor had not seemed surprised by Jim's reaction, and as close as the pair appeared to be, he probably knew the reason behind it. Vulcans did not feel jealousy, but he did not know what else to call the feeling that suddenly overcame him at the thought of Jim so close to another. Jim was his: his Captain, his friend, his Guide.

He started at the thought, taken aback for a moment, wondering when he had started thinking of the Captain as his own. But still that did not matter if the Captain did not want him, as appeared to be the case. He was not possessive by nature, so such emotions unnerved him. He was not used to not knowing himself, and the very idea that he was not in control of himself sent his sense of self reeling. The very idea that he would spend the rest of his life depending on another went against everything he'd ever been taught. While he had expected to bond before his first pon farr, he did not expect the bond to have such a hold over him.

Suddenly needing to talk to Jim, even talk to the doctor to explain this to him, what it meant to him, he rushed out of the medbay, heedless of Nurse Chapel's angry shout that he hadn't been cleared to leave yet and headed after Jim. He wasn't sure where he was going, but his feet apparently did and led him to the rec rooms.

Coming to a stop outside an occupied room, he hesitated for a moment, considering knocking before he entered. Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly opened the door, and stepped inside. He opened his month to speak but abruptly shut it at the sight that met his eyes. Dr. McCoy had the crying Captain pressed up against the wall. Immediately filled with fury, thinking the doctor was hurting him, forcing himself on his Guide, Spock made to move forward, but froze at their words.

Watching as Jim collapsed, and was gathered into the doctor's arms obviously upset and fearful of the prospect of being Spock's Guide, he felt a strange stabbing sensation in the region of his heart. Suddenly all the time the Captain spent with the doctor made sense. The reason behind all the times he'd seem Jim exiting McCoy's room in the wee hours of the morning made a horrible sense. They were lovers and Jim thought that Spock would take him away.

McCoy's head suddenly turned towards him, and their eyes locked. Spock did not understand what he saw in the other man's eyes but he nodded his acceptance, and took his leave.

Once safely back in his quarters he began planning, detailing the conversations that he would have to have, to assure Jim that this would not hurt his relationship with the doctor, that he was not a threat to them. While he knew bonds between Sentinels and Guides were often sexual, he knew that it was done for the sake of convenience rather than a true need.

Changing into his robes, he lit the fire stone, preparing to meditate, but at the first bright flare of rainbow colors he was drawn in and lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim suddenly stood, ignoring his throbbing hands and aching muscles, not hearing Bones' startled exclamation and demand to know what was going on, and then the shouts to stop and wait as he slammed out the door and began running. He didn't realize where he was going at first; his feet had a mind of their own. But he knew that he was needed.

Rounding a corner he found himself in front of Spock's quarters, and without a second thought, used his code to override the lock and enter. Quickly stepping into the room, his eyes were drawn towards Spock's form, standing with his back towards him unmoving.

Hesitantly he called, "Spock?" but when he received no response he moved forward, around his still form, and found Spock's pupils widely dilated, staring entranced into the fire stone. Quickly putting it out, he called again, "Spock? Can you hear me, Spock?"

Stepping closer to the Vulcan, he hesitantly touched a sleeve of his robe, before searching among its many folds for his hidden hands. He'd never done this before, hadn't thought about it for years, hadn't thought he'd even need to remember, but he knew this. When a Sentinel zoned out on one sense you called them back through their other senses.

He didn't spare a glance as the doctor entered the room cursing. Grasping Spock's hands, he fisted them together and brought them up to his chest, resting over his heart. "Spock, come back to me. Listen to my voice. Feel my touch, my heartbeat. Pull back from it."

Spock suddenly blinked, then tried to jerk back startled at the sudden presence of the Captain before him. "Captain? What are you doing here? I was alone but a moment ago."

"No, Spock, you zoned. You got lost in the flame."

"A zone is a catatonic state brought on by focusing on only one sense. I do not understand. I was alone and you were on the other side of the ship in a rec room."

"Yes, I know—" Jim's eyes went wide. "Wait, how did you know that I was in a rec room?" And then he began to shake his head wildly, and tried to let go of Spock, but the Vulcan only tightened his grip on Jim's hands not letting him pull away.

Bones moved forward, "Jim, you know—"

"No!" Jim exclaimed, trying to pull away from Spock.

He froze at Spock's quiet, "Jim." And looked up at him, as the Vulcan continued on. "I will not come between you and the doctor. I understand that you fear that your responsibilities to me as my Guide would interfere with your relationship, but I foresee that we can continue as we have as though nothing has changed."

Jim was confused and looked over at Bones as the other man groaned. "Spock, what are you talking about? Bones and I aren't together."

Spock shook his head. "There is no need to deny it."

Bones finally spoke up. "Jim, he saw us in the rec room and obviously leapt to conclusions."

Jim was still confused. What had he seen? Just a friend comforting another friend, but then he realized what such a thing could look like from an outside perspective. "Oh, no, no, no. We're not lovers."

Spock's brow rose at the denial. "I have seen you exit the doctor's quarters at 0400 seven times in the past 2.3 months."

"Really? It's been that often? But we aren't sleeping together. I mean we are sleeping together, as in sharing the same bed, not having sex. Have been since the Academy." Jim saw the silent question. "My psi ability, I'm an empath, off the charts according to the tests." Jim took a deep breath to steady himself, and he smiled as he felt the comforting weight of Bones' hand rest on his shoulder. "Spock, I can't be your Guide. Don't give me that look. I know that your instincts are telling you, that there isn't another for you, but there is. I can't be what you need."

Looking over his shoulder for a moment, he met Bones' sad eyes, before straightening and turning back to face Spock. "I never spoke of this aloud, but on Tarsus IV, there was a little girl. Her name was Quinn, and she was beautiful, would have been a knock out if she'd survived. But what made her really special was that she was going to be a Sentinel. I know that they say that's there's no way to tell, but I knew. I'd felt it before, but never understood until I saw her, and the light bulb instantly went on. I don't know why I never recognized it before. Maybe it was because I'd never touched one before. The doctors said that I bonded too young, but there was no bond. She wasn't even a Sentinel yet, just had the possibility of being one, like I had the possibility of being a Guide. Nothing was set in stone. And they locked a part of me away, saying it had broken me, damaged me in some way, but they just didn't understand that I had always been that way, they'd just never bothered to look. I never felt another Sentinel after that."

Jim tensed at the sudden rage he felt pouring off of Spock, and tried to back up but only ran into Bones, who still had a firm grip on his shoulders.

"An adult forced themselves into your psyche without consent and tampered with your mind?" Spock almost vibrated with rage. "The young are meant to be protected. Such an event is the worst travesty."

Spock's grip on Jim's hands tightened painful, and Jim had to fight crying out. "Spock, you're hurting me."

Spock's grip suddenly lessened and the rage all but disappeared as though a switch had been flipped, and for all Jim knew it had been. But the sudden absence of feeling was both a relief and a loss. "I am sorry. The last thing I wish to do is cause you harm, Jim."

Jim just blinked in surprise. He could count the number of times that Spock had called him by his given name without title or prompting from him on one hand. When Spock raised his hand, Jim had to fight not to recoil, but Bones' grounding presence at his back and the reassuring squeeze of his shoulder eased his worries.

Spock's fingers were spread in the way that he'd only encountered once on Delta Vega with Spock's older self, and it had been without explanation or warning, so Spock's soft, "May I?" came as a surprise.

Jim stared at those splayed fingers for a long moment, acknowledging the careful placement of each one as though done a thousand times before. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that Spock was seeking, and not sure if he should or could allow it. During the previous time on Delta Vega with Spock's future counterpart he hadn't understood what the Vulcan was going to do until it was done and there was no way for him to fight it. The encounter had been both amazing and frightening. If the older Vulcan had asked him, or had tried to explain it to him, Jim probably would have denied him.

His brain was the only place he could still call his own, at least in part. He was afraid of what this Spock would see. The other Spock hadn't been searching for anything, hadn't looked into Jim's mind. It was Jim that had been in Spock's mind. But this he knew was different, and he wasn't sure if he could allow it.

When Spock began to lower his hand, Jim realized he that some time had passed and that he hadn't said anything. Finally finding his voice, he asked, "Why?"

Something flashed across Spock's eyes, but was gone before Jim could place it. "I wish to ascertain if any damage was done. The young mind is a very fragile thing. If one is not trained or careful, they can cause unimaginable damage with very little effort. I need to see that you were not damaged."

Jim couldn't contain his gasp, and felt the blood drain from his face. McCoy suddenly pressed up against his back. He was a comforting presence, an anchor in the storm that was raging around him, throughout him. He couldn't. If Spock saw he would know how damaged Jim really was, know that the damage had always been there, that Tarsus IV hadn't caused it, had just made it visible.

He missed the look that Spock and Bones shared over his shoulder as his eyes were still locked to that hand. As he opened his mouth to say no, McCoy's hand rose to cover it before a sound could emerge. Angrily, Jim pushed the hand down and craned his head to look over his shoulder. "What the hell, Bones?!"

"Shut up, Jim. This has gone on long enough. I should have done something about this a long time ago, but I was doing what I thought best for you as your friend, not your doctor. Now, as your doctor, shut up and let Spock do this. You need it."

Jim knew he must have looked gob smacked, but Jim trusted Bones, and if Bones said he needed this, then he would do it.

Turning back to Spock, he nodded jerkily, suddenly feeling detached. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and not watch. As the hand neared slowly, giving enough time for Jim to change his mind, he made himself focus on those eyes instead of the hand, letting himself lose himself to that gaze.

Vaguely, from someplace far away, he felt a pressure on his face as the fingers found purchase, and heard the softly whispered words, "My mind to your mind… my thoughts to your thoughts." And then he was drowning, gasping for air, as he sank beneath the weight of Spock's mind.

Just as suddenly, he was surrounded by a soothing warmth, an apology, and he was free, gasping for unneeded air. He felt more than heard the words.

I am sorry.

What? Jim tried to say, but no words came out.

You visualize yourself as in your body because that is the form you are most comfortable with, but this is your mind. Think rather than speak.

Like this? Jim could feel Spock's amusement.

Correct.

This was so different from his experience with the future Spock. Before he'd not known himself at all, been consumed and feared that he would be lost under the weight of the man's amazing mind and terrible sorrow. Now he knew Spock was there, but it was far away.

I am sorry that for that experience. It was not normal. Now please relax. This should not take long.

Jim felt the presence withdrawing and shouted, Wait!

Again he felt Spock's gentle amusement. There is no need to shout. I am still here. Just relax. Let yourself drift. It will be easier that way.

Easier for who? Jim asked, but there was no response, so Jim did as he was told. It was an odd experience, one he did not have words for, and he wasn't sure how much time passed before he knew something wasn't right.

In fact, something was about to go terribly wrong. NO! he shouted and suddenly found himself transported to what looked like a festering wound long neglected. It oozed a viscous, yellow-green pus, and Jim found himself gagging despite not being able to smell. Spock's presence was all encompassing, and Jim did not understand what was going on until he saw the wound being opened more to draw the poison out.

Suddenly, he heard screaming, and it took a moment for Jim to realize it was coming from him. Even when swiftly surrounded by Spock's presence he couldn't make himself stop. Before his eyes the wound suddenly began to bleed bright red blood, the toxin abruptly gone, and just as quickly the wound began to close and heal before his eyes, until all that was left of the mess was a bright pink scar, which was rapidly whitening as though aged.

Unexpectedly, he realized that he could suddenly feel Spock, not how Spock was in his mind before, but Spock as a Sentinel, a sensation that he hadn't felt in years. And then Spock was there, invading him, trying to connect them, and Jim was pulling back, trying to prevent it, run from it, but it was already done. He should have known this would happen, hadn't even thought of the possibility, but he suddenly knew that this is how Vulcans all once were. They were the origin, and Spock's unbonded mind sought his out unconsciously.

No he mentally shouted, and he was suddenly back in his body, but it was too late. Spock collapsed on the floor in front of him and Bones began demanding what was going on. Jim had been screaming, but the doctor had known that interrupting the meld could have been fatal to both of them.

Jim ignored him for the moment as he sank down next to him, taking Spock's hand in his. Those eyes fluttered briefly and met his.

Spock tried to pull his hand away, but Jim wouldn't have it, instead tightening his grip.

Jim felt the apology in both the touch and his mind, so when the words came, he was not surprised. "I am sorry. I am ashamed for my uncontrolled action. It was not my intention to do such a thing, but I was overcome. Despite the excuse, my actions are unforgivable, and I shall submit to whatever punishment you deem fit."

"Punishment?!" Bones exclaimed, pacing next to them. "What the hell happened? Dammit, I want answers now!"

Feeling the sudden absence of Spock's mind, Jim looked down, seeing that the Vulcan had passed out. "Right now we should get him to sickbay."

"What?" Bones demanded, then realized that Spock had passed out, cursed and called for a stretcher, not noticing that while he had his back turned that Jim slipped out. Turning back to address Jim, he started, "And don't think for a moment this is going to get you…" he trailed off realizing the man's absence, and cursed, "Dammit, Jim!"


	7. The Tripping Place

Rushing down the hallways, Jim didn't pay attention to where he was going, just knowing that he suddenly needed to get away, couldn't answer the questions he knew Bones would invariably have nor be close to Spock right now. He was impressed by his own acting skills, not railing or raging at Spock for what he'd done, even though Jim knew it had been an accident. Bones always wanted to talk, even when he wasn't asking questions or pushing, Jim knew he would feel that stare weighting him down and he couldn't deal with that right now.

He didn't realize he'd entered engineering until he heard Scotty's hearty greeting, "Hiya, Captain."

The engineer paused for a moment as he took a look at Jim's face. "You're looking a mite parched. Care to share a drink?"

Jim just nodded dumbly and followed behind the other man, behind the twists and turns of the pipes in the belly of the beast, the heart of the Enterprise.

"Seeing as you're the captain and all I really shouldn't be showing you this," Scotty stated as he stopped in front of their destination.

It took Jim a moment to realize what he was looking at, and laughed when he realized the Scotsman had created a still. "I don't see a thing," Jim stated, smiling like a schoolboy.

Scotty just winked conspiratorially at him and poured him a glass. Jim tentatively took it, eyeing it with distrust. Carefully sniffing it, he took a small sip when the fumes didn't appear toxic, and abruptly wheezed and coughed harshly as his insides were set ablaze. The cup was plucked from his hand before he could drop it and the man was pounding on his back as Jim bent over trying to convince his body that it needed to breathe and he wasn't going to burn up from the inside. Eyes watering, he finally straightened, and met Scotty's sheepish gaze.

"Sorry about that, Captain. 'Tis a new batch. Seems to have a more of a kick then I expected. Sit, sit, put your feet up and relax. And remember - small sips."

Jim sat where the man gestured and leaned back as his cup was plunked back into his grasp. He eyed it cautiously, as though it would leap out of the cup and bite him, before taking another small sip. His eyes teared up again, and it burned all the way down, but at least this time his body didn't try to start a riot on him. Jim watched the other man as he poured himself a drink and sat down in the chair opposite him. His eyes went wide at the large gulp his head engineer took without seeming phased. The man must have insides made of cast iron, but Jim figured if he drank this rotgut regularly that his body would find some way to adapt.

Scotty suddenly began to talk engineering, the latest development and his own theories, facts that didn't require conversation, just a small nod or affirmation here and there, and Jim was thankful for it. He felt the man's curiosity, but was grateful when he didn't ask. Jim wondered briefly if this was a common occurrence, but then decided that as Captain it was better not to know. Sometimes people needed release and he didn't care where they got it as long as it didn't hurt anyone or interfere with their jobs.

He let himself drift, getting lost in the sound of the Scotsman's voice, letting it sooth him. He'd long ago learned to not let on how he was feeling, not say anything, just let it go, accept it and move on. With Bones things had been different, the man never took no for an answer and he'd slowly begun lowering some of his shields, but they were never completely down. He could never let himself go. For once he wished he could, he wanted to scream at the world for the unfairness of it all. But he'd learned long, long ago that the world wasn't fair, and the world just kept on proving that to him.

Whatever had been done to his mind on that rescue ship, whatever Spock had done to fix it, brought with it memories that he hadn't realized were missing. Most of his memories of Tarsus IV had been hazy and far away, except those with Quinn, except one. They hadn't been able to steal her from him. But now he remembered it all, and almost wished he hadn't. He knew it had been bad, had the scars and muscle memory and fears to prove it, but he'd never remembered the details, what'd he'd done to survive, what had been done to him.

But there was one memory that he knew had been the reason for it all: the memory of how he'd met Quinn. He'd known someone was hurting, someone he'd had to save and protect at an instinctive level, and he'd done just that. Bursting through the doorway, he hadn't thought as he saw the man crouching over her; he's just attacked, tackling the man and unconsciously projecting all the rage, hate, and fear he'd had bottled up inside at the man. He hadn't thought about the fact that the man didn't fight back, hadn't realized what he'd done, just grabbed the girl and ran.

He remembered the doctor rifling through his brain, saying that he was too strong, too uncontrolled, too damaged. They couldn't risk it, and they'd locked it away. Jim almost wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. He hadn't done anything but tried to survive. They'd taken an emotionally wounded boy, and infected him, leaving the wound to fester and grow over time.

And then there was Spock, the man that never made anything easy. He'd taken the choice from him, however unintentional, and while Jim knew that it was in part his own fault, he couldn't help but be hurt and pissed. It wouldn't have made a difference, he told himself. But they'd had no way of knowing that the Vulcan bond was in fact the same as that between Guides and Sentinels.

He'd been allowed to examine bonds when he went through training years ago to be able to recognize them, and now that he was subjected to one he suddenly knew. He wondered if the Vulcans should know, what they would even think of it, if they'd even believe it. He wondered if that also meant that the Vulcans were the race that all other planets were seeded from or if Vulcan space explorers had crashed and been stranded on other planets and eventually crossbred with the native species, passing on the genes. Though that did not explain the lack of biological markers for Sentinels, that there were no genes that determined it.

The sudden overload hit him unexpectedly as he became aware of the entire population of the ship, causing him to pitch off the chair, and Scotty was suddenly there, saying, "Whoa there, sir. I think you had a mite too much to drink there."

As the man tried to right him, he hissed, "Don't touch me," and pushing the man's hands away, hunched over and gripped his head in his hands. "Get Bones," he gritted out to the unsure man. He didn't notice if he did as told.

He hadn't realized until that moment that the encounter with Spock had ripped down all his shields. He wasn't sure when he'd begun to began to build his shields, but he'd been young and it was done unconsciously. His instructors had been amazed at it, saying they'd never seen anything like it. And then with training and time, he'd added more and more to it. He'd never lowered them, not once. With as much as he felt with them in place, he hadn't ever wanted to see what things felt like with them down. And he could have done without the experience.

He wasn't even sure how to rebuild them, didn't know where he'd started before. They had tried to teach him, but as he already had them, the lesson hadn't stuck, and he worried for one insane moment that he'd be stuck like this, and knew that if so, they'd either ship him off to the crazy farm or have someone trash his brain and probably turn him into a vegetable. Once an empath matured and particularly those with moderate or higher levels, they did not do well without their ability.

He felt Spock's sudden concern, but pushed him away, tried to lock him out, and he felt the other man's guilt and hurt before he withdrew. Jim couldn't find the will to care; he was too overcome by his pain.

Suddenly Bones was there and the man's cool touch was a balm to his frayed nerves. "Jim, what's wrong? What's happening? Your neuroactivitiy is off the chart." He felt himself lifted onto a stretcher and then he was moving.

"Shields," he gasped out.

"Dammit," Bones cursed. "He's overloading."

Jim yelped as the hypo suddenly stabbed him and then hearing the hiss he felt nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he came to it was like fighting through water to get to the surface for air, and still then, he felt like his head was filled with cotton, and still he felt too much and knew it was wrong. There was an annoying screeching to his left, and he tried to tell someone to turn it off, but all that came out was a moan. Suddenly Bones was there, and he realized he was in medical and the sound was an alarm connected to him. He flinched at the sudden light that was shining in his eyes, and slurred out, "You drugged me." He didn't even get a chance to curse as another hypo appeared and knocked him out again.

When he came to this time, it was to two people arguing. Spock apparently wanted to meld with Jim to fix what was his fault, but Bones wouldn't hear it because it was his fault, and he wasn't about to let him go traipsing through Jim's brain to cause more damage.

Jim groaned as a massive headache suddenly became known and said, "Bones, shut up. Spock, fix this now."

Bones protested, "Jim, I really don't think this is a good idea. You don't know the risks."

"I know the risks if I'm left like this." Looking at Spock, he ordered, "Do it."

He felt a bit miffed that the Vulcan looked to the doctor for permission before doing so. When the touch and words came, he thought he'd be prepared for it, but it was nothing like the previous time, and Jim wondered inanely if he'd ever get used to it or if he should expect a new ride every time.

Spock's voice startled him. I am sorry, Captain. In my ejection from your mind I inadvertently tore down your shields.

Stop apologizing and help me fix it.

Very well. Follow my example.

What example? Jim thought, and then he knew. The knowledge was suddenly there and once the foundation was there, Jim knew what to do. Instincts took over, and with Spock's help his shields soared and were almost up to par with his old ones.

Spock was gone from his mind in an instant, and Jim was suddenly aware of his body again. Turning his head he met Spock's eyes across where he'd apparently moved after he ended the meld. He frowned as he felt the bond and realized that Spock was blocking it from his end. He ignored Bones' fussing over him, and instead asked, "So what's the verdict, doc? Am I free to go?"

Bones shot him a dirty look and huffed in annoyance. "Your vitals are evening out, and you know I'd rather keep you for observation, but I don't want the headache that you're certain to cause me with your constant complaints."

"Aww, Bones. I'm not that bad. It's just your bedside manner that brings out the worse in patients. Maybe if you—"

McCoy interrupted, "One more word and you're going to find yourself sedated and strapped to that bed for twenty four hours."

Jim grinned lewdly and waggled his eyebrows. "Kinky."

"Jim…" he warned. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

Jim jumped off the bed. "Sure thing, doc." Walking towards the door, he didn't comment as Spock fell into step next to him.

Bones' voice made him pause. "One more thing, Jim. You're confined to your quarters for the next twenty four hours."

"Aww, Bones."

"Complain and you'll be spending it here."

That shut Jim up, and he was out the door before the doctor could change his mind.

Finally reaching his door, he hesitated a moment, glancing at Spock out of the corner of his eye before opening it and stepping aside for the Vulcan to enter. As the door slid closed, he locked it behind them. He didn't think there would be any visitors, as he was off duty for medical reasons, but one never knew.

Motioning for Spock to take a seat, the man complied and Jim took the seat across from them. They'd sat at this table many times in the past months, but even before they were friends the tension and awkwardness was never this bad. Spock wasn't looking straight at him, but rather a point just beyond him. Swallowing thickly, Jim said, "We need to talk."

Spock stiffened and replied, "I agree with your statement."

When no more words were forth coming, Jim sighed and nervously began drawing circles on the table with his finger before clearing his throat and saying, "Well, guess I'll start then."

Jim wasn't sure if he was relieved or apprehensive as Spock's eyes finally shifted to his, and Jim was the one forced to look away under the weight of that stare.

"God, I don't even know where to begin. Look Spock, this is really awkward for me, and I'm sure it is for you to. So just hear me out okay?"

Spock's nod was almost indiscernible, but it was there, so Jim continued.

"You're one of my best friends. Well, really my closest friend other than Bones. And you're a Vulcan. Who would have ever thought it?" He winced at his words and the increased tension in the form across from him. "Shit. That came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that. Look, you know me. You know what my friends are like. The kind of people I hang out with."

"Those people are not your friends," Spock interjected.

Jim tried to glare, but knew it was weak. "You said you wouldn't interrupt. And I know. That's how it's always been until I met Bones. The man was like a dog with a bone and wouldn't leave well enough alone, and before I even understood what had happened he'd wormed his way into my heart and it scared the hell out of me. I tried to run, but he wouldn't have it. Made me face it. If it wasn't for Bones I don't know where I'd be now, but I can't imagine it would be good."

He finally met Spock's eyes again. "And then I met you. You were everything I was supposed to hate. And I did hate you at first, with your logic and cool detachment. I couldn't believe that you'd accused me of cheating. The thought hadn't once crossed my mind. I thought if anything I'd be rewarded for thinking outside the box as the Academy promotes."

Spock opened his mouth to interrupt but Jim shushed him.

"Sorry. I'm getting off topic. That's a discussion for another time. Anyway, it was like with Bones all over again, but this time I recognized it, and wasn't scared. It was you that did the running. You won't believe how scared I was that you wouldn't sign on as first officer. I met the other candidates that Archer had lined up in case you refused, and I know that with any of them, this mission would have been doomed from the start. It was like I could finally breathe again when you walked onto the bridge."

"Look, I'm not good with this kind of stuff. I'm not good with emotions, particularly the positive kind, but I'm not a fool. Our friendship means a lot to me, it works, and I don't want to ruin that."

Jim paused, standing and began to pace. Spock rose to come to him, but Jim's raised hand made him sit down again.

"Jim?" Spock questioned.

The man froze and turned. "Not yet. This isn't easy for me. I know that bonds between Guides and sentinels aren't required to be of a sexual nature, but I get the feeling that there is no way that ours wouldn't be."

"Captain. There is no need to worry. I am impotent."

"What?" Jim breathed out, not believing what he was hearing. "What about you and Uhura? Everyone knew you were together."

"Yes, we were in a relationship but it was not of a sexual nature." Spock turned his back to Jim. "The fault of that is mine. We tried, but I was unable to respond." The Vulcan paused. "Dr. McCoy could find no physical reason for my malady." The last word came out harsh, as though it hurt him to say.

Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing, and suddenly wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He never even got to voice his thought about breaking the bond, and didn't notice that his feet had moved him until he was standing next to Spock. Placing his hand on the chair, he spun it so Spock was facing him. "No physical reason? Does that mean it's mental?"

Spock's eyes were shuttered but he nodded briefly. "The doctor hypothesized that I was unable to let my control slip enough to 'relax and enjoy it' as he put it. I am unsure what he meant by that, but I have employed every relaxation technique that I am familiar with, with no luck."

Before Jim realized what he was doing, he slid himself in Spock's lap, straddling his thighs, and ignoring Spock's wide eyed look, let his eyes drift shut as he slanted his lips over Spock's own. They remained still under his, so he increased the pressure, nipping lightly at his thin lower lip, and then tracing his tongue along the seam.

Suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped and Spock came alive beneath him with a groan. The mouth under his opened, allowing him access, and Jim's tongue wasted no time darting forward, mapping out the moist interior. Jim let out a groan of his own as Spock's tongue forced him to retreat. He grinned against those lips as he felt a sudden bulge against his ass, and those long fingers were biting into his hips so hard that Jim knew he'd have bruises in the morning, but he didn't care at that moment.

Abruptly pulled tight against Spock, Jim squirmed as his erection was trapped between their bodies. Sharp teeth nipped at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, causing Jim to cry out.

And as suddenly it began, it ended. At the sound, Spock unexpectedly froze, and Jim suddenly found himself unceremoniously dumped on the floor, staring up into Spock's panting face. Then the Vulcan's face blanked and he turned, exiting the quarters before Jim could utter a sound. He cried out suddenly as the bond between them unexpectedly closed. Jim had been wrong before in medical. Spock hadn't been blocking. It was just Jim's own shields. He'd been wrong also about how strong his shields were now. And now the sudden absence was that much more obvious, that much more painful.

He'd never been alone in his head before, had always dreamed of it, imagined the paradise that it would have to be, but the sudden emptiness was a nightmare, frightening unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Unaware what he was doing, he crawled under the table, curled up and keened.

The next few days were horrible, seeing Spock everyday with the man acting like nothing had happened. Jim avoided Bones as best he could, but he still felt the man's increasingly suspicious gaze following him whenever the doctor was near. The tension on the bridge was almost palpable and poor Chekov began stuttering when Jim snapped at him for the third time that day. Jim felt blind without his empathy. He'd never realized how much he relied on it, until it was locked away in his head.

It wasn't until the third day that the numbness fell in the wake of fear and anger. No one had a right to have this much power over another person. He'd promised himself years ago that he would never allow himself to fall into the same trap as his mother, never let himself get that close to someone. And here he'd invited someone in and practically thrown himself at the Vulcan, when all he'd wanted was to have the bond severed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bones couldn't say that he was surprised when he entered his quarters and found Jim in his bed. It had turned into a regular thing again for the first time since their first year at the academy, all because of that damned Vulcan. Jim was wound so tight that Bones knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped, and Bones could only hope that he was able to pick up the pieces. He didn't know what to do for his friend, and he found himself wishing that Spock hadn't awakened and complicated all their lives.

While he couldn't truly blame the man for what he was, he could blame him for what he was doing to Jim. Sighing, he stripped and took a quick sonic shower, wishing more than anything for a real water one, but not desperate enough to waste his saved water rations on one. Going to his dresser he donned a new set of skivvies and crawled into bed with a yawn.

He was unsurprised when Jim rolled over and latched onto him like the limpet he was. What was starling was the bulge pressed up against his own quiescent flesh and the soft sigh of, "Bones."

Blinking stupidly at Jim, he wondered if he should try to move. Being as they were both healthy males in their prime, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened. The normal course of action was to move away, ignore it, and never talk about it. But with Jim wrapped around him like he was, there was no chance of moving away, and when the man started rocking against him there was no way for him to ignore it as his cock perked up at the sudden realization that it might get some action that didn't involve his own right hand.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, knew it was all kinds of wrong, and that if he didn't already have a one way ticket to that special hell his mama warned him about, he did now. He couldn't help but moan and rock against the touch as well, the whole time calling himself every kind of fool. Jim didn't trust easily, a result of his troubled childhood, but when he did, he trusted completely, and despite knowing this was wrong, and that it would ruin them, he couldn't stop, couldn't help but take the little he could.

McCoy knew he didn't have a chance, that he gave that up years ago at the Academy when Jim made that pass at him when he wasn't in his right mind, and Bones denied him. And now with the bond between Jim and Spock, he'd just be in their way. He knew all the science, had read all the articles. While bonded Guide and Sentinel pairs were not hard coded to have a sexual relationship, they often formed one, and couples that did have them worked better together.

Bones was many things, but he wasn't blind and stupid. His mama hadn't raised no fool. He wasn't about to step in between such a thing. The bonded pairs he knew were in some of the happiest and healthiest relationships the man had ever seen, and after everything that Jim had been through in his life he deserved that, a little bit of happiness and nothing else.

Bones wasn't thick enough to think that he could hold Jim's interest long, especially not back at the Academy when he went through partners faster than some people changed their underwear, and especially not now when he had the bond and something as exotic and smart as a Vulcan to hold his attention.

He let out a startled little yelp, as he suddenly found himself pushed to his back, as Jim straddled him and pale blue eyes glared down at him. Bones closed his eyes, waiting for the explosion, the punch, anything.

"You're thinking too hard."

His eyes flew open again.

"Stop it."

And McCoy barely had a chance to blink before Jim leaned forward and captured his lips with his own. Bones opened his mouth allowing him access, moaning as Jim's wet little tongue darted teasingly into his mouth. He remembered that kiss from years ago. There was no way he could forget it. Someone couldn't have as much action as the kid and not know how to kiss. And boy did Jim ever know how to kiss, using just the right combination of lips, tongue and teeth, knowing just when to sooth the ache of a nip and how to keep just on the pleasurable side of pain.

Jim scooted back until their cocks were aligned, and Bones gasped suddenly bucking up into Jim's grinding hips. His hands fit into the groove of the other man's hips and he held him in place as he rocked. When Jim's hands slid down and suddenly twisted his nipples through his shirt, he threw his head back with a startled gasp, causing Jim to attach himself to his neck. With one last roll of his hips, Jim suddenly mewed, fucking mewed and froze as he exploded. Bones suddenly jackknifed up at the sound and taking one look at Jim's rapturous face, came in his own pants.

Minutes later as they lay panting with Jim sprawled on his chest, Bones couldn't help but think that that sight had been the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his entire life. When Jim suddenly slid off his chest, Bones felt a momentary sense of panic, but called himself all kinds of a fool when Jim just settled next to him because he had no right to expect anything, to want anything, to hope for anything. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Jim signed against his neck. "Bones, stop. Just stop. Don't do this. We both needed this. Don't psychoanalyze it. It is what it is, and it was great. Don't spoil it. Please."

It was the please that got him. The please that made him wrap his arms around him, and want to never let go, but he knew he had to. "Aw, hell, kid. I'm just a simple doctor, not good with this type of stuff. You know it too." Letting go he sat up, despites Jim's protests and grabbing his seeking hands, he pulled a startled Jim to his feet.

"Come on. Let's get clean and changed. Neither of us are going to enjoy it in the morning if we don't." Jim followed, surprisingly compliant, and as they both stripped and got into the shower Bones was amazed by how comfortable it was. Once cleaned, they put on new clothes and climbed back into bed.

As Jim snuggled up against him, Bones pulled him close and said softly, "You know this is a one off thing, right?"

He almost snorted at that small snore he got in response. Only Jim. Then he rapidly sobered. He didn't know if his heart could take what was coming next.

Waking up hours later, McCoy was surprised to find the other man still there, tracing patterns on his chest. Slowly opening his eyes he met the brilliant blue ones above his own. Jim, seeing that he was awake, suddenly lowered his head, and Bones felt like an ass he turned his head to the side away from it, but not before he missed the flash of hurt in the Captain's eyes before it was quickly shuttered up. When Jim opened his mouth to comment, Bones shook his head. He couldn't do this, couldn't have this conversation.

He didn't say anything as Jim pulled away and got dressed, didn't look up when he heard the door hiss open, and then close, didn't let the tears falls from behind his clenched eye as he wondered if he'd made the right decision or ruined things beyond repair.


	8. The Tripping Place

By the end of the shift, Jim's nerves were fried. He quickly exited as soon as the next shift arrived, ready to seek out the safety of his quarters. Jim hadn't meant for last night to happen, but at the contact, finally feeling something for the first time in days, he'd wanted more, needed more. And Bones hadn't said no. He could at least have peace of mind that what they did was consensual, that he hadn't forced his best friend.

But he wondered if the man was even still his friend, if he hadn't just singlehandedly ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him with one selfish moment of need. Give his record, Jim couldn't say he'd be surprised if Bones didn't want anything to do with him outside of their professional duties after this, but he'd never been emotionally invested in anyone like this. The prospect of going without Bones left an ache in his chest as though someone were trying to tear his heart out of his ribcage.

Spock's sudden weirdness today hadn't helped with anything. After days of pointedly ignoring him, Spock's eyes suddenly followed his every move. He hadn't actually caught the Vulcan at it, but he felt the weight of the stare again the instant his back was turned and it just grated against his nerves that much more.

He knew that he needed to tell Bones about the problems with his shields, should have told him days ago, but couldn't get up the nerve knowing that it would mean another meld with Spock, and not being able to deal with that right now. He didn't know what he felt about the situation anymore. He was so twisted up inside. He knew the longer that nothing was done, the harder and more damaging it would be to break the bond, even knowing it wasn't a full bond.

Last night in Bones' arms had been heaven, but he could already feel the need for touch again. He hated it sometimes, he was like a junkie that always needed his fix, but with his shields so high it was worse than ever. Jim sighed and promised himself he'd talk to Bones about it tonight.

Spock was his friend yes, and yes he found the man attractive, but he wasn't sure if he could do this. He couldn't deal with this hot and cold, and he was afraid if they fully bonded, that things would continue to be that way, and he couldn't stand for being a yo-yo. Spock had opened up to him, but only so far, and Jim was afraid that Spock would never be able to do more, that his past and heritage wouldn't let him let go of his control. Jim knew that it would be part of his responsibilities as a Guide to help his Sentinel learn how to trust, accept, and use his instincts, but he couldn't help but feel that he'd fail to do so with Spock, and he couldn't deal with being less than what Spock needed.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Spock following him or entering his quarters behind him until he toed off his shoes while pulling his shirt over his head and found himself suddenly spun around and pushed up against the wall hard enough to push the air out of his lungs as he released a startled yelp. Struggling to pull his shirt over his head, Jim gasped as Spock was suddenly pressed up against him, nose buried in his neck, and Jim yelled, "What the hell, Spock?!"

But the Vulcan didn't answer him, and that was when he realized that Spock was sniffing his neck. Oh shit, Jim thought. Spock was scenting him. He should have realized, should have known this would happen. There was a reason newly bonded couples were normally isolated with each other away from others for a few days. The Sentinel needed to imprint his Guide completely, all five senses. Before they were imprinted any foreign scent was seen as a threat. And Jim knew he had to be covered in Bones' scent despite the sonic showers.

Jim had been naïve to think that because of how shallow the bond was that it wouldn't affect Spock. He wondered for a moment if he should call for security, but his heart went into overdrive, as Spock suddenly sank to his knees, literally ripping off his pants and causing him to yelp as welts formed on his abused flesh as the material snapped against his skin like a rubber band.

Without conscious thought his foot raised, planting itself in the center of Spock's chest, and braced up against the wall as he was shoved the Vulcan back with considerable force. The Vulcan sprawled on his back and actually growled at him, but Jim was already shouting, knowing that the Sentinel was too far gone for the soft spoken shit Guides were supposed to use. "God dammit, Spock! Get a hold of yourself before you do something we both regret. You're better than this. Where's your proud Vulcan control now?"

Jim knew it was dangerous to taunt the feral man so, but he knew the only way to reach him was to go straight for the throat. And he wasn't wrong as he saw awareness return to those crazed eyes. The man wasn't completely back, but it was enough.

Spock had risen to his knees after Jim's attack, but suddenly sank back down on his hunches and looked away.

Jim felt his ire rise that the man was too ashamed to even look on him. "No. You don't get to run and hide from this. You wanted me. I'm here. I'm not running from this anymore, but God dammit, I won't be ashamed of this or be your dirty little secret. It's all or nothing, Spock."

When Spock made no move to reply, Jim demanded. "Look at me."

Spock's head slowly raise and their eyes met. Jim had to fight not to look away at the fury brimming within. "Do you understand?"

Spock nodded, then finally spoke for the first time, simply stating with an almost puzzled tone, "You smell."

Jim winced at that. "Yeah, I know. That's my fault. I'm sorry." Unabashed by his nakedness he offered Spock his hand. "Help me wash it off?

Spock's hand landed firmly in his, though the man rose gracefully to his feet with no aid.

"Show off," Jim stated, then turned and pulled the Vulcan with him into the bathroom. Letting go of his hand, Jim turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. He knew that sonic showers could wreck havoc on a Sentinel's sensitive hearing, particularly one that hadn't had a chance to gain control of them, something Jim would begin to rectify immediately. He'd known that Spock as he was, was a liability, and it was totally Jim's fault for not doing something about it sooner.

Turning back around he found that Spock was still standing there and had made no move to remove his clothes. "Not joining me?" Jim asked. Spock's nose suddenly twitched and Jim almost laughed at the speed at which the Vulcan divested himself of clothes. Jim only had a moment to admire the lithe frame before he was unceremoniously shoved into the shower and quickly joined by Spock, who plastered himself up against his back.

With a single mindedness that Jim rarely saw, Spock began to rub him down. Jim relaxed into the firm touches, but yelped as Spock suddenly scrubbed too hard on tender bits of his anatomy, causing him to murmur, "Easy there. I'm rather attached to those parts and like them with skin intact."

Spock never stopped in his ministrations though he eased up, but when Spock finally decided that he was satisfied and switched off the water, Jim was red both from the heat of the water and the thorough scrubbing that he'd just received. Spock suddenly spun him around and once again buried his nose in Jim's neck. Jim felt a brief flash of amusement and thought 'here we go again' as Spock sank down to his knees.

When Spock got to his stomach he paused a moment, before his tongue shot out to explore Jim's navel and he growled. It definitely wasn't a happy sound. Apparently the shower hadn't done the trick. Jim suddenly began to stiffen and felt his length bump into Spock's chin. And when Spock suddenly dropped lower completely bypassing his already weeping cock and buried his nose in the rich, musk of Jim's balls while slowly mouthing at them, Jim couldn't help but squirm and cry out, all the while burying his hands in that thick black hair.

"Oh god, Spock," Jim moaned, as one of his balls suddenly popped into the scorching heat of Spock's mouth. "Let's take this to someplace more comfortable."

Spock must have agreed because the Vulcan suddenly rose, causing Jim to moan at the sudden loss of contact, and yelp as he was unceremoniously thrown, still dripping, over Spock's shoulder and carried back to the main living area before being dropped on the bed, not caring that they instantly soaked the sheets.

Jim shivered briefly as his soaked skin met the cool sheets, but stilled as Spock was instantly on top of him, lowering his body and blanketing Jim's form with his own. As their cocks met, Jim moaned at the contact and begged, "Please, Spock," before fisting his hands in Spock's wet hair and pulling him down for a kiss that was all teeth, and lips, and tongue.

As Spock's hips rolled against his, sliding their cocks against each other, Jim moaned and arched his back, pressing closer. Jim groaned in protest as Spock's mouth suddenly left his to leave a wet trail down to his neck. As Spock suddenly latched onto his neck and sharp teeth worried the tender skin there, Jim shuddered, and threw his head back in a wordless cry, giving Spock better access and wrapping his arm tightly against the man above him, seeking closer contact, more friction.

When Spock's teeth suddenly broke the skin and a hand snuck between their bodies and fisted his cock, Jim couldn't hold back at the dueling pleasure and pain, exploding between them, trembling with his release. For long moments he laid there panting, before he realized that Spock was still hard against his hip, barely moving.

Spock must have been very satisfied by his work because his head rose, showing off lips red with Jim's blood. Looking as smug as Jim had ever seen the man, Spock held his eyes as he scooted down and lapped at the cum trailed across his chest and stomach until he was clean. Breaking eye contact when he reached Jim's cock, Spock dropped his head and engulfed Jim's soft cock, causing the man to shudder and protest as his over-stimulated flesh was engulfed by Spock's wet mouth.

Spock softly nursed on him, swirling his tongue around his sensitive head, and then pulling off as Jim began to harden again. Jim spread his legs wide in appreciation as Spock slid farther down still, scenting at his balls again. He didn't linger there long this time, apparently having another destination in mind as he pushed Jim's legs up to his chest where Jim held them, palming his ass, spreading his cheeks wide.

Jim's balls were nosed out of the way and a long lick trailed down his perineum, across his asshole, to the base of his crack causing him to shudder. He should have expected this too. He jumped when Spock's tongue hesitantly touched his pucker, and then began to swirl around it slowly drawing closer to the center. And then it fucking wiggled like nothing he'd ever experienced, and Jim couldn't help but squirm and beg, wanting more of that tongue, and he wasn't disappointed when Spock began to lap at the opening, coaching the muscle to relax. His whole body shuddered as that masterful tongue suddenly pushed against his asshole, seeking entrance. But his muscles didn't give so Spock's tongue pushed harder finally breaking through his resistance.

Jim couldn't bite back the sob that exploded from in time, and Spock suddenly groaned into his ass, sending delicious vibrations raving through his groin, and suddenly pushed deeper seeking to taste more of Jim's earthy musk. Jim cried out as Spock's wicked tongue suddenly began to fuck him like a miniature cock and reached down to fist his drooling cock, but found his hands knocked away as a growl vibrated through him, causing him to gasp out, "Oh God, Spock. Please."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he clawed at fistfuls of sheets trying to keep his hands away from his body. This wasn't a first for him. He'd had it done before, but it was nothing like this, not nearly as pleasurable or as intense, and he'd never came close to cumming from it, but now he felt his release rising higher and higher with every stroke of Spock's talented tongue. When one of Spock's crafty little fingers slid into his slack hole causing it to burn so good and pressed against his prostate, he screamed as Spock's mouth engulfed his convulsing cock all the way to the base and swallowed. Jim came so hard that he blacked out.

He came to still panting and looked up to find the Vulcan on his knees over him. Jim grinned as Spock's hand suddenly rose to his own cock and began to slowly jack off. It didn't take much before Jim saw the signs. Spock's balls drew up tight at the base of his shaft, a fine sheen of sweat broke out across his body, and there was a barely discernable quiver to his form.

When the Vulcan finally exploded, he threw back his head and practically howled, and Jim closed his eyes for a moment as the first shot landed on his face. When he opened them again, Spock's eyes suddenly locked with his, and Jim didn't miss the gleam in those eyes like a cat that just ate the canary and the cream when he unconsciously licked his lips, tasting the Vulcan. The next shots trailed down his chest and finally dripped down on over Spock's clenching fist to land on Jim's twitching cock as it tried in vain to rise again to the opportunity, but despite its valiant attempt it was way too soon for a third round. Jim couldn't help but be impressed by the large quantity, and wondered if all Vulcans shot so much or if this was just a Spock thing.

Spock's hands were suddenly on him, massaging his seed into Jim's skin like some type of exotic moisturizer. Jim just let himself relax into to the gentle massage, rolling over without protest as he was prompted to allow Spock to continue his ministrations to his back. He knew the instant that all the lights came back on upstairs because he felt the sudden rush of emotion before Spock's hands spasmed on his flesh and abruptly pulled away, leaving him bereft.

Jim rapidly turned over and grabbed the man's wrist before he could escape the bed, and hissed "Don't you dare. Don't you dare do this, then run away from me again. I'm not your whore or your play thing." When Spock did not respond and did that thing where he pretended to look at him while not really looking at him, Jim lost it and shouted, "Talk to me, dammit!"

Spock's silence said so much more than any words could have.

Jim recoiled as though burned, and watched silently as Spock quickly dressed and left his quarters. Jim realized that the more appropriate question would have been not 'did he understand?' but 'did he agree?'

Now he had his answer, and it just helped to solidify what he'd been trying to tell them all along: that he was unfit to be a Guide. Ignoring the wet sheets he curled up on his side and let himself drift, not noticing when he began shivering.

Jim wasn't sure how much time passed, and barely registered the hiss of his door, or heard the soft "Oh, Jim."

Then at the doctor's unexpected touch he came rushing back to himself, and everything was too bright, too harsh. Suddenly realizing it was Spock that he was sensing again, he tried to climb to his feet only to get tangled in the sheets and almost crash to the floor. Bones' hands were suddenly on him, holding him in place, and he fought them, fought the one that was trying to keep him from his Sentinel. Jim didn't notice the sad look that crossed the doctor's face and the sudden oomph of pain that escaped the man as his elbow caught the man in the ribs.

Crying out at the sudden sting in his neck, he had enough time to turn and meet McCoy's tear filled blues eyes and here the man's quiet, "I'm sorry," before he collapsed in the doctor's waiting arms.

With trembling hands Bones set his Captain on the floor and quickly stripped and recovered the bed before lifting him again and carefully tucking him in, cursing his traitorous emotions. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the marks on Jim's body, the vivid bite on his shoulder, the bruises and chafed skin. If the marks weren't enough of a clue the overpowering scent of sex was more than sufficient to fuel his imagination. And given Jim's current state, he couldn't help but draw certain conclusions, conclusions that he prayed were false.

The rage carried him out of Jim's quarters to Spock's and without even waiting for entrance used his medical override to get in, at the moment uncaring that he was breaking dozens of rules and regulations. The fact that Spock did not even acknowledge his presence added that much more fuel to the doctor's rage, and marching over to him, pulling him around and slugged him.

The stinging of his hand only briefly registered, and he was disappointed that the blow barely caused the Vulcan's head to turn, but he felt a small sense of victory at the small trace of green blood that trailed from the corner of the Vulcan's mouth. He raised his fist again, but this time the man's hand flew up and caught his wrist before the blow could be delivered, and Spock's impassive face remained turned away, not looking at him.

"What did you do to him, you emotionless bastard?" McCoy all but shouted at the man.

When Spock didn't respond, the doctor took in his appearance, noticing the swollen lips and mussed hair. Laughing darkly at the sudden realization, he smiled sardonically and drawled out, "So you finally got it up, and it was too much for you? Well, news flash, Spock. You're not just a Vulcan anymore. You're a Sentinel with all the crazy instincts that come with it. Maybe Jim was right."

At the mention of Jim's name Spock's head turned and he suddenly turned to face the doctor, eyes swirling with emotion.

"Maybe he's not really your Guide," Bones taunted. "He's better off just being friends. We'll see about breaking the bond, and finding you another Guide. We have a number of crew members that are qualified."

That finally got a rise out of the stoic Vulcan. "No! He is mine!

A flash of pain briefly crossed the doctor's face before he could hide it. "Then act like it, dammit! Do you realize what you're doing to him? His entire life he's been unwanted, a burden to be pushed off onto someone else, and then thrown away, again and again. He can't deal with this hot and cold. He's not equipped for it."

Spock's face was unreadable as he stated, "You love him."

"Yes," Bones stated simply. It had been a fact for years. It didn't matter that it had changed to a different kind of love recently. It was still a fact, and he had long ago learned to not lie to himself.

"You said you were not together, though I clearly smelt your essence on him."

"You did, and we're not or weren't. It's complicated." Bones wasn't going to deny it. "Look, I have no desire to stand between you and your Guide, but I won't stand by and let you use him like this, let you hurt him. If you can't figure out what you want soon, I'm going to find someone to break the bond, and not let you near Jim until you're fully bonded with another Guide."

Spock stiffened and rose to his full height at the prospect of his Guide being taken from him, but McCoy didn't so much as flinch.

"If you hurt him again, you won't like the consequences."

Spock's head titled. "Is that a threat, Doctor?"

"No, Mr. Spock, it's a promise." And with that Bones turned and left the Vulcan's quarters, intent on checking on Jim.

Once there, McCoy took out his tricorder and healed the physical wounds, wishing it was just as simple to heal the mental ones. When he was finished he pulled up a chair beside the bed and settled in to watch Jim sleep. It never ceased to amaze him, how young the man looked when he slept, but then he was young. Too damned young to have been through everything he'd been though, to be where he was today. Stronger men, more experienced men would have fallen and never risen again, but Jim never knew when to quit, or when to back down. Bones didn't let himself dwell on it, but he often worried and dreaded the day that the Captain wasn't brought to his operating table, but to his morgue.

He couldn't let himself think about it, couldn't imagine being where he was without Jim. He was glad for the interruption to his thoughts when Jim suddenly shifted and moaned. At any other time, Bones would have crawled into bed with him, but not now, not tonight, not after last night. He wasn't sure if he'd be welcome and he wasn't sure if he should even if he was. Things had changed no matter how much he wished they hadn't. But they hadn't changed as much as he expected. He wasn't sure why he had expected some Earth-shattering realization or event.

He wasn't going to deny that the previous night had been Earth-shattering, but it had seemed like the natural progression of things, like it was meant to be. And Bones wasn't sure what to think of that, not in the face of things. He'd told Spock that he wasn't going to come between them and he meant that. He'd seen it before, and it wasn't pretty. He wasn't selfish enough to do that to any of them.

If Jim's friendship was all he could have, then he would be happy with it, as he had been for years. He would cherish the memory of them together for what it was and nothing more. There had been no declaration of love or promises of eternity. Hell, if there had been he probably would have checked Jim for mind-altering drugs first, and barring that those tests came back negative, he'd have run second.

Focusing again on Jim, he finally took notice of the sheen of sweat that had broke out across the man's body despite being covered in only a sheet, as well as the slight trembling of his frame. Reaching out, he took Jim's hand, intent on checking his pulse, and nearly leapt out of his skin as Jim moaned, "Bones, please, don't leave me."

Startled, his eyes jumped to Jim's face to meet bright, lucid eyes. He could deny this man nothing. Smiling sadly, he nodded. "Never, Jim. I promise."

The childlike joy in that sudden smile warmed him like nothing else could, and when Jim lifted the edge of the sheet beckoning him in, he of course did as requested after quickly stripping down to his unmentionables.

It was surprisingly not awkward as Bones had feared it would be, and he couldn't help but sigh in contentment as Jim snuggled up against him.

McCoy had just about drifted to sleep when he heard Jim say, "There's something wrong with my shields."

Bones was instantly awake again and immediately in doctor mode, reaching for his tricorder when Jim grabbed his wrist and pressed him back down into the bed with a, "Stop."

"Jim, we should get you down to medical, do a scan. I don't want you overloading aga—"

Jim's hand slid over his mouth, stopping the flow of the words and he smiled down at his friend. "It's not like that. My shields are in place. I'm not going to lose them over overload."

"Then what's the problem?" McCoy asked.

"They're too strong."

Bones shot him a questioning look. "I don't understand."

"An empath's shields are different from a telepath's. In fact, it's easier if you think of the empath's as filters. They let in some stuff, but not everything. A telepath's shield is essentially that, a shield to block things out. Empaths need emotion. When Spock helped me rebuild my shields, he showed me how to make a shield for a telepath. No, don't give me that look. It's not his fault. I don't even think he knew or realized that there was a difference. I didn't even notice it right away; I was just so happy for some relief. But I can't feel anything right now unless I'm touching someone and I feel like I'm walking blind. And it's getting bad. It's worse than when I started the Academy, and I can barely make it through the day."

"Dammit, Jim. Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Jim looked away. "I've had a lot on my mind."

Bones had the grace to look shamefaced. "Dammit, I'm sorry. Let's go find that pointy eared bastard and we'll fix this." He made a move to sit up and was pressed back down again. "Jim," he growled.

"Please, not right now. I'm good here, with you. It can wait till morning." He paused then whispered, "I can't see him right now."

Hearing the pain in his voice, Bones immediately pulled him close, "Aww, shit, kid. I'm sorry. You sure you're okay here?"

Jim nodded against his chest and mumbled, "Stop apologizing."

"Okay, kid. Get some sleep." With a sleepy yawn, he began petting that golden head, smiling slightly as Jim let out a contented sigh and snuggled more tightly against him.


	9. The Tripping Place

Hate was illogical, and up until now Spock had never hated anything in his life. But now he found himself detesting what he'd become along with the resulting senses and instincts. So far they had caused nothing but problems, nothing but pain.

And it was Jim, who had quickly become his friend despite the odds, sought him out and stuck with him with an unmatched audacity, proving over and over again that he was worthy of Spock's respect despite his unorthodox methods, that was the one taking the brunt of the damage. The Captain had wormed his way past Spock's defenses like they weren't there from the very beginning. At first it had made him angry, but as he began to get to know the man he was constantly astounded that despite all the odds Jim would succeed at anything he put his mind to.

He recognized something in his Captain unlike anything he'd ever encountered, and while he could not put words to it, it was immensely important to him to be close to Jim. He would not deny that he found Kirk attractive, but he had calculated that the chance of him having any interest in him other than a passing fling was less than .008%.

Vulcans did not do casual. And then there had been his own problems with physicality that had come to light during his time with Uhura. While he had cared for her, did still care for her, it had not been the right way and he had never truly been comfortable enough with her to give up his control completely. She'd said she'd understood, and while he knew that had been a lie, he did not call her on it because he also knew that he had hurt her deeply. He was grateful that despite everything, she still thought of him as a friend.

Vulcan emotions were intense and powerful yes, but despite all the control he'd mastered over them, they had not prepared Spock for how overwhelming the instincts of a Sentinel were. At first he'd been able to ignore it, bury it in his mind, not let himself dwell on the growing desire to spend time with Jim. But as soon as the Doctor had called Jim his Guide, had given a name for what he was feeling, he'd known and had no longer been able to deny it.

He knew his actions were unforgiveable. If Jim had not managed to shove Spock out of his mind when he did, Spock knew that the betrothal bond that had instantly sprung into place would have turned into a full-blown bond within seconds. The instinct to bond had completely overwhelmed him and was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. His bond to T'Pring had been nothing like this, and he considered the possibility that maybe bonds were being made for the wrong reasons.

Spock had been prepared for it the second time, but even with all of his control, it had been a very near thing to not allow the bond to spring fully into place. He knew that he would not have such control a third time. Spock had never encountered a mind with such compatibility to his, a mind that was so in tune and familiar to his own, as though he'd walked its paths hundreds of times before, so fitting that it was almost as if they were made for each other.

While it was no excuse, Spock had again been unprepared for his own reaction when Jim had kissed him. After trying so many times with no results, and to suddenly lose all control had been beyond mortifying and felt like the worst kind of failure. And then he had done the unthinkable and blocked Jim out because he was hurting and selfish and scared. But the worst part was that he knew his Guide was also scared and hurting and the fault rested squarely on Spock's own shoulders.

His future self had informed him of their relationship. The older Vulcan had wanted to make sure that his younger counterpart did not make the same mistakes he had made and run from their relationship. And despite the older man's words and advice he had heeded none of it. He was running and hurting his Captain in ways far beyond anything his future counterpart had ever done.

And his actions this very night were the worst travesties. Jim had surrendered completely. Despite his fears and misgivings, his friend had been willing to give in and had laid himself bare before him. But Spock had taken that gift and thrown it back in his Captain's face. Jim's pain pounded incessantly through the bond, and his instincts were screaming at him to destroy the sources of such pain. But as he was the cause of it, there was nothing for him to go after. Without conscious thought, he reached out to his Guide both through their partial bond, so amazingly strong despite its newness and incompleteness, and through his senses. He felt both instant relief and worry when his Guide abruptly went unconscious, indicating that the doctor was with him.

Doctor McCoy was also another point of contention, despite their protests to the contrary, Spock had clearly smelt the man on his Guide, and it had enraged him like nothing else. What he could have done if Jim had not gotten through to him, scared him. Again the lack of control was a fault that he could not bear. Spock knew that it was too late for them to consider a platonic relationship and he wondered what that meant for the three of them. He knew there was a lot of emotion between the doctor and captain.

He was not surprised when the doctor entered his quarters uninvited nor by his actions. They were both to be expected. He respected the man's obvious devotion and was glad that his Guide had someone like that. What he did not expect were the words. He'd known Jim wore masks, but he hadn't realized that they were so good that he hadn't even recognized some of them.

He sat silently for some long hours after the doctor left, going over the events of the past months in his head from the first time he'd seen the petulant man-child as he 'defeated' his Kobayashi Maru, how smug and unrepentant he'd been at his own hearing despite the threat of expulsion, and then how much the man had grown and matured in the days that followed, how he had stuck by his convictions in the face of ambiguity and almost certain death. The Captain had continued to grow and thrive, less likely to give in to his juvenile urges now that his considerable intellect and excessive energy now had an engaging outlet.

But in the past week, he had watched his Captain fall to pieces, and Spock knew that the fault lay squarely on his shoulders. Suddenly knowing what he had to do, he rushed out of his quarters, intent on speaking to the Captain, knowing the longer he waited the worse things would get. Not waiting for permission he entered, and his eyes easily adjusted to darkness and immediately landed on the two figures in the Captain's bed.

Jealousy rushed through him, and before Spock could realized what he was doing he took a step forward. He instantly froze as Bones' unwavering hand suddenly rose, holding a phaser set to stun pointed straight at him. Bones rose slowly as well, careful not to move the obviously exhausted Jim.

"For a Vulcan you're awfully good at jumping to the wrong conclusions," the doctor drawled, low and even. "Sit." Bones motioned to the end of the bed with his free hand.

Spock hesitantly moved forward, ignoring the phaser and instead looking straight into McCoy's clear blue eyes, before carefully sitting down. They swirled with sadness, and anger, and a fierce protectiveness for the man that lay sleeping the bed, a protectiveness that Spock was beginning to strongly respect.

"Talk."

Spock glanced at the still sleeping Jim for a moment before returning his eyes to the doctor. "I must apologize. To both of you. I do not understand your relationship. That disturbs and confuses me, and thus sets my instincts on edge. I wish to protect Jim, but doing so brings him pain. I did not accept my feelings or his own. I did not accept myself. It was wrong of me to hide my symptoms for so long. I have endangered the ship and the crew with my own selfishness. I have hurt you both."

Bones opened his mouth to protest, but Spock continued on.

"I have hurt the Captain in unforgiveable ways because I fear myself, my feelings, my senses, these new instincts, and the lack of control they bring. You care deeply for him, so his pain becomes your pain. You were not wrong to confront me this evening as you did. I realized a great many things. Archer was not wrong with his statement that we could work well together, could be great together. However, no one could have predicted that I would become a Sentinel. The odds are beyond even my capacity to predict. As my future counterpart was not a Sentinel, we do not know what this will mean for us. What is a certainty if there is no resolution between us soon, none of us will be fit for duty."

Spock paused a moment, turning his gaze towards Jim, who was still curled up on his side. "I know that despite what you have said there can be no other, will be no other. Jim is, and always will be the only one. Since I have met him, I have never been so content with my life, and know that without him, there would be none."

"Spock," Jim's voice started Spock, and he moved to stand up, but Jim moved to fast, sitting up causing the sheets to pool in his lap, his hand rapidly reaching out to grabbing Spock's wrist. "Stay."

Spock nodded his agreement. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again, run again, hurt his Guide again. But while he knew that things would not be that simple, he had to try. "You were awake."

It was a statement, not a question, but Jim nodded anyway. "I know that you're sorry. I can feel it. But I'm hurt, and don't know if I can forgive you, if I can trust you again. I'm not good with this. Normal relationships, that is. I've failed at those, and this is about as far away as you can get from normal, and I fear that I'll be even worse at this. This is as much my fault as yours. As soon as we knew, I should have started working with you, helping you, even if I wasn't going to be your temporary Guide, but instead I ran. I knew that there were instances were a Sentinel was so focused on another Guide that they would not or could not even consider another. I didn't want to believe that was the case for you. Because I was scared, am still scared, because I still feel that you will regret this, and that will kill me."

Never, Spock wanted to say. But he could feel the tension in his Guide's touch, smell the whirling emotions, and practically taste them in the air, and held his tongue.

"I know now you don't believe it. Won't consider it, but a few years down the road when I'm not capable of what you need me to be, you'll see."

Spock moved his hand to grasp Jim's. "Jim, you are what you are, and I would not ask you to change that. I do not what you to change for me. I chose you because of who you are. I will continue to choose you. I will never regret you."

Opening his mouth to protest, Bones tightened his grip on Jim's other hand and finally spoke, interrupting Jim.

"No, Jim. This is as much my fault as yours. I'm the one with the medical knowledge on Sentinels. I should have seen the signs, should have intervened sooner. I've been your friend for almost four years, and not a day goes by that I'm not grateful for that. I can't imagine how my time at the Academy would have been without you. Quieter, yes."

Jim's mouth twitched.

"But it wouldn't have been the same. I wouldn't give up your friendship for anything. You mean the world to me. You know I love you, kid. I still see the doubt in your eyes. But you can't push me away, and now you can't push Spock away. Someday we'll prove that there will be no regrets." Looking hard at Jim, he said, "In light of things, the bond needs to be set as soon as possible. Are you okay with this? If not, I'll separate you."

Spock growled at the doctor's words. He would not take his Guide from him. Jim's grip tightened around his hand drawing him back. His Guide was still here. The doctor was not taking him.

Jim stared his friend in the eyes, blue locked with blue, and nodded. He knew that if it was important, if he asked, that Bones would do anything for him. That scared the hell out of him, but also reassured him like nothing else could. He didn't allow himself to dwell on the sudden tightening of his friend's eyes or the wave of sad acceptance that he felt from Bones. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, or the one. And he knew this was for the greater good, for his friends, his crew, his ship, the whole of Starfleet. He would do as he had to do as he always had.

Bones nodded, gave Jim a small sad smile, shot the Vulcan a look, and quickly left, intent on monitoring the room for any signs of problems or distress. He paused at the door for the moment, telling Jim. "Get your shields fixed."

Spock relaxed marginally as the doctor rose to leave, but tensed at the man's words, and demanded, "What is wrong with your shields?" Feeling the sudden need to be nearer to his Guide, he scooted closer. Jim understood and closed the distance between them, but not before pausing to pull Spock's shirt over his head. Spock's arm wrapped around Jim's shoulder, pulling him close, sighing at the sudden skin to skin contact, and only then did Jim answer.

"You showed me how to make shields like your own."

Spock just looked at him, not understanding, and Jim continued on.

"You're a telepath. I'm an empath. The functions of our shields are fundamentally different. You use yours literally as a shield to block everything out. Empaths, as you know, read only emotions, so our shields don't need to be nearly as strong as yours are to block out thoughts. But the shields of an empath act more as filters, blocking out the majority, but not everything, because we need those emotions."

Spock felt a sudden horror at the explanation. In his rush to help Jim to rebuild his shields while holding back his own desire to bond, he had not stopped to consider the true use of an empath's shields. His hand rose of its own violation intent on fixing his folly, but Jim's hand suddenly clasped tightly around his wrist, preventing farther movement. "I must—"

"No," Jim stated forcefully. "I'm fine."

"But—"

"I'm fine as long as I'm touching someone, and seeing as how we're going to be touching a lot tonight. I'll be fine. It can wait."

Spock relaxed his arm, letting it fall though Jim did not relinquish his grip. "If you are sure it will not harm you."

Jim nodded. "I'm sure." Jim hesitated a moment before leaning forward to kiss the Vulcan.

It was light and chaste, but hinted at what could be and Spock shyly returned in before pulling away and gazing down at the amazing sight before him. Spock had never before understood the importance and value that so many put in physical beauty, but now that he had it before him, he could understand the draw. Spock knew that Jim had never had a lack of sexual partners, so he knew the man was considered attractive, but he never really knew, never understood until now.

Spock froze as Jim pulled back, but quickly relaxed as Jim just laid back against the pillows and stretched out, kicking the sheets away and stretching lazily like some sort of big cat sunning itself. Spock couldn't help but appreciate the picture that he presented, and the part of himself that he was still learning about luxuriated over that fact that it was all his.

Hesitantly, he moved forward, unsure of what to do in this situation now that he was no longer overcome by new instincts.

Jim must have seen his uncertainty because he smiled warmly at Spock and offered him his hand. Resting his own in the proffered hand, he allowed himself to be pulled forward. When Jim rested Spock's hand to his chest, and splayed the fingers over his heart, Spock's attention was suddenly riveted on his heartbeat. He could feel the beat against his palm and it reverberated across his body, see the sudden swelling of each individual capillary as a flush rose across Jim's skin, and hear it beating a tattoo louder than any drum.

"Yes, that's right. Do what feels right. Follow your instincts. Don't worry about it. Don't think."

Spock's brow rose.

"Don't give me that look. Just do what feels right. If I don't like something or there's a problem I'll let you know."

Spock continued to stare in fascination at the sight before him, taking in every minute movement, things he should not have been able to see, things he'd never before seen without a microscope. He could get lost in this and would not have cared. Jim, as though sensing the direction of his thoughts, reached up and ran his fingers through Spock's hair, and Spock shook his head before scooting down.

Resting his head against Jim's abdomen, he reached out with his hearing and took in the sounds of Jim's body: the steady beat of his heart, the small hitch in his inhalation at the contact followed by a rapid exhalation before he calmed, the blood carrying oxygen to his body, the rumbles of his digestive tract absorbing nutrients and moving waste. It was strangely intimate and unbelievably comforting. Some might find such a thing disgusting, but Spock could find no fault in the sounds that proved Jim was alive and well.

Breathing in deeply, Spock took in the scent that was uniquely Jim, the scent of the coffee that the Captain so loved to sneak despite the repeated warnings from Dr. McCoy that it was bad for his health, the faint sandalwood of his aftershave, the warmth of old leather, aged parchment, peppermint candies, and a splash of bay rum, layered over a rich musk that was exclusively Jim's, a musk that was increasing over time and spiking with undeniable arousal.

On top of Jim's scent was the smell of himself, a knowledge that brought with it a burning need unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, knowing that Jim was to be his. His previous encounters were hazy at best, no matter how much he tried to meditate on the events. He did not want to miss a moment of this. On top of everything was the scent of the scent of the doctor, but for once that knowledge did not bother Spock and given his past – dare he call it – jealous reaction to the man's scent on Jim, he could not fathom why.

Hesitantly Jim's index and middle finger brushed against his own, and it was Spock's turn to feel a shocking surge of arousal. This time he did not fight it, but let it wash over him. He controlled it. It did not control him. Jim must have felt his response because he got bolder, twisting his fingers against Spock's own. He drew in an unnecessarily deep breath and mirrored his Captain's action, surprised that Jim seemed to be taking as much enjoyment from the act as he did, then realized that it must be Jim's empathy allowing him to feel what Spock felt.

Spock raised his free hand towards Jim's face and could not help but feel saddened at Jim's sudden flinch, knowing that it was his fault that his Captain feared such a thing. A joining of minds within a bond was a thing of the utmost beauty, the highest pinnacle of intimacy any being could hope to attain. Spock mourned for his intended and hoped that he could show Jim what a splendor it was meant to be.

Spock watched as Jim drew in a deep breath and met his eyes steady before nodding his acceptance. With more faith than he was really feeling, Spock slowly bridged the gap between them and intoned the words that he had never heard spoken aloud, but knew with every fiber of his being, "Jim. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."

Jim repeated them back and as the last word was spoken, Spock's fingers settled against the meld spots on Jim's face as though he had done it a thousand times before. As Spock's mind met Jim he was once again overwhelmed by the rich beauty he found there, the deep purples, aquas, and reds that made up his aura, so unlike any mind that he had ever encountered before. Like Jim's scent, his mind was as unique as any Spock had ever experienced, but it was as familiar to him as his own as though he'd spent an eternity walking its halls rather than just a few scant minutes.

He could see the thin silver chain that linked them together, stunning and deceptively fragile in one instance, and in the next it thickened and grew, pulling them impossibly closer, until their minds were one and Spock could no longer differentiate between his own thoughts and feelings and Jim's. He was overcome by the magnificence, overwhelmed by the knowledge that he was so close to another, would never be alone again, and no longer had to hide.

There was no sharing of memories beyond those they desired to share, no slideshow of their pasts, just a meeting of selves at the most basic and yet most fundamental level. They knew each other in a way that words could not describe and it was wondrous. Spock had heard talk of bonds in the past, had read descriptions, but this was so much more than anything he had ever hypothesized. Despite the lack of evidence, he could not help but feel that the bond between himself and Jim was something singularly unique, and he could not help but feel grateful for Jim allowing him the chance to experience this.

The warmth he felt all around him, through the bond, was what he imagined heaven would have felt like if he believed in such a place. So lost in the moment, Spock did not know how longer they were melded together. When he pulled away he was unsure whose panic he felt.

Feeling the sudden desire to move and touch he did not fight it. Kneeling over Jim, Spock ran his hands lightly down his sides, taking note of the small twitches the action caused. Pulling on his knowledge of anatomy, he began his examination of Jim, never having been so entranced by another being. No spot was left untouched, not bone, muscle, or mark left unstudied as he precisely categorized his findings. He did not realize at first that Jim was holding back, nor did he understand why particularly after what they now shared, but at the awareness his goal changed from careful examination to sensual exploration, making note of every response, wanting to see Jim writhe and moan in wanton pleasure because of his actions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bond wasn't anything like Jim expected. Nothing he'd read or seen had prepared him for the reality of the situation. He could barely find words to describe it, so unlike anything he had ever experienced before. All his life all he had ever wanted was to be not alone anymore, to not be left behind, and with this that would never happen again. It was humbling to be part of this, but still he could not help but worry that it wouldn't last that Spock would come to regret it, to feel trapped by him.

And then there was Bones, his – best friend wasn't even an appropriate description anymore because he was so much more – he wasn't sure what he was anymore, but he knew that despite everything that he didn't want to lose him though he feared that he would. The sudden comfort and warmth through the bond was almost too much to handle and Jim made himself stop thinking and just feel.

Jim wasn't sure how much time passed, but Spock's slow and meticulous inspection of his body was driving him nuts. He moved where Spock indicated, turning and contorting as Spock examined every inch of him, except where he most desired to be touched. He'd never been so hard in his life, so swollen that he ached with need and was dripping constantly. He'd never been so close to coming without direct contact. It was almost embarrassing. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin soon if he didn't get to do something, but knew that Spock needed this.

He hadn't noticed that the bond between them was wide open until he felt a short burst of amusement though it and realized that Spock was past need and had moved onto teasing him. Here Jim had been trying to keep quiet and still and the Vulcan was toying with him. He didn't know whether or not to be amused or annoyed at the situation.

Wound so tight, Jim couldn't help but jump when Spock spoke. "I was not 'playing' with you, but rather waiting for the moment your control lapsed. I must admit it has taken longer than expected. I want to hear you. You need not hide from me."

Jim had to actively fight the urge to cover his face, but all thoughts of hiding flew out of his mind as Spock's eyes locked with his and then with a deliberately unhurried motion wrapped his hands around Jim's cock and pressed a spot right above the root. Jim couldn't quite bite back the sob that welled in his chest as the feelings of orgasm without the pleasure of the actual release crashed over him.

When his few remaining brain cells valiantly tried to fire again, he wondered where the hell Spock had learned that. Then on second thought he really didn't want to know. Some things were better left unknown, and Spock was a Vulcan after all.

And fine, if Spock wanted a reaction he'd get one. Twisting Jim reached into a drawer by the bed and pulled out a tube of lube and offered it to Spock who took it without question. Jim settled back down spreading his legs and drawing up his knees.

Jim wasn't all that surprised when Spock snapped off the cap and gave it a slight sniff, nor was he when Spock squeezed out a small amount on his fingers and rubbed it around testing the consistency. What was a shock was when instead of moving his fingers down to Jim's ass, Spock rose to straddle Jim (he wondered briefly when Spock had removed his clothes) and reached behind himself.

Jim couldn't see what Spock was doing, but oh he could imagine and his cock spasmed in excitement as he watched Spock's cock twitch front and center from the motion of his fingers behind him. If Spock hadn't done whatever the hell he'd done to him minutes prior, he would have exploded from the sight alone. Oh god, he'd imagined this, but never thought it would happen. At least not the first time.

But Jim knew that it was a common misconception that being a Sentinel meant that they were a dominant alpha in all things, even bed. But in reality it was their protective behaviors towards their Guides that were misinterpreted in such ways. Sentinels would do anything for their Guides to keep them safe, and that scared the shit out of Jim, having that much power over someone. Though that did not mean that a Sentinel was without a will of their own; they were not bound to obey their Guides. Sentinels just tended to do things that would make their Guides happy.

He felt a growing sense of affection towards his Sentinel – his Sentinel, he couldn't believe it, never thought it would happen, never dared hope or dream.

When Spock's slick hand suddenly wrapped around his throbbing erection he cried out in need and arched up into the touch wanting more. He bit back a moan as Spock slowly fisted him thoroughly coating him.

"No," Spock ordered. "I wish to hear thee."

It wasn't the words, but the formal tone that did him in. He was so used to having to be quiet that it had become natural, and to go counter to that would take effort but he would try. He groaned in disappointment when Spock's hand left him, but hissed as Spock lined him up with his hole.

He began to pant as Spock slowly sank down, deliberately teasing and almost unbearable. Spock was impossibly tight and shockingly cool inside, not cold, but his lower body temperature was obvious in a way that he'd never experienced and it was just another sensation that added to the multitude that were consuming him. When Spock finally sank down to the root, he gave a curious wiggle and his muscles rippled down Jim's length causing him to shout.

Oh god, he wasn't going to last long at that rate. And then Spock bent down over him, knees hugging his sides, contorting his long body to hesitantly kiss him.

Jim returned it eagerly and moaned from the duel sensations of Spock beginning to rock slowly on his lap and as his hands trailed down his sides and across his chest to teasing caress him nipples. When Spock squeezed one exceptionally hard, he yelped and bit Spock's lip harder than he intended, tasting blood as he hastily jerked his head back to apologize because he was embarrassingly sensitive there.

But before he could speak, Spock growled, "Mine?!" It was as much a statement declaring his place with Jim as it was a question of his approval.

Seeing the almost feral gleam in Spock's eyes as well as the battle for control, Jim nodded in agreement, not willing to risk pushing him over the edge at a time like this. There was no need for it and it would ruin things.

When Spock suddenly lunged forward and bit his neck in the same place that Bones had healed just a scant few hours ago, he was not surprised but still cried out. When Spock pulled away and kissed him again, he tasted his own blood. Given the situation it didn't disgust him.

As Spock picked up the pace, it was all Jim could do to hold on and enjoy the ride. There was no confusion about who was in control right now and it wasn't him. Digging his nails into Spock's back and scraping, he was rewarded with a hiss of pleasure and pain.

Spock paused for moment, giving him an inquisitive look.

Jim just grinned and managed between pants. "I want to hear you too." To punctuate his statement Jim thrust up hard, almost unseating Spock, but he was rewarded with a startled gasp from Spock, and Jim realized that he must have hit Spock's prostate and shifted to do it again, and then again as Spock let out a small moan.

By that time they were much too close to last much longer and it only took a few more thrusts before they were both cumming, shaking with the intensity of their release. As Spock collapsed to the side as to not overburden him with his weight, panting, Jim marveled at the small bits of control that Spock gave up in his presence.

It was only as Spock's hands petted across his sweat slick skin that he realized that Spock was only wet from him. How convenient.

"Isn't that kind of gross?" Jim asked after a time as their heartbeats and breathing slowed.

Spock lazily opened one eye to look at him. "To what are you referring?"

"The sweat."

"I can find nothing about thee gross." The formality of the tone did him in again.

Jim shrugged. "If you say so." Then sighing continued, "I don't know where we stand."

Spock continued his tracing of random symbols on his skin, though for all Jim knew he could be reciting the Vulcan alphabet. "It is simple. You are the Captain and I'm your First Officer. I am a Sentinel and you are my Guide. You are my Bondmate as I am yours."

Jim swallowed thickly against the suddenly swell of emotions. If only things were that simple. "And where does Bones fit into this?"

Spock paused for a long moment and Jim feared he went too far. "I am open to your relationship with the doctor. I did not speak false when I stated I would not come between you."

Jim looked away unsure if he should be relieved or disappointed. "But?"

"I am unsure of the logistics of such a relationship or of the probability of it working without server emotional harm to you if we are not all in this relationship together. The strain of a 'V' relationship will likely be too much. Dr. McCoy tries to hide it but when he cares, he cares deeply. Perhaps I should instigate a relationship with him to explore the possibility of a true threesome."

Jim just goggled at Spock, not believing that he was hearing correctly. He never thought he'd hear the day that a Vulcan talked about their relationships. He had no idea how that would work in a normal situation and this was anything but normal. He couldn't believe that Spock would be interested, couldn't help but feel that Spock was doing it for him when he really had no interest in such a relationship so he could please him.

He nodded absentmindedly when he realized that Spock was waiting for a response. Things had just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated and he didn't know what to think of them.  
Weeks Later

Watching the two of them together was both a blessing and a curse. Bones was pleased to finally see his friend so happy. The two men were good together. Things were still unsteady, definitely not perfect, but he could see the possibilities. They made a great command team and he knew that it was only a matter of time before their names graced the history books. But it was bittersweet because McCoy could have had that for himself, had a chance at it, and passed it up. He wasn't going to be the one to stand in the way of destiny.

It had been rocky there for a while, really rocky, and he'd wondered more than once if that old Vulcan had been wrong, if this reality was just too different for some things. But seeing them together now, how good there were together, he knew the man had been right, and smiled warmly at them despite feeling his heartbreak. He'd made his choice and would sleep with it. Turning for a drink he missed the significant look the two shared before joining him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… where to begin? This fic has been almost a year in the making. That's when the idea first came to me. First I tried to get someone else to write it for me. That didn't work really well. I won an auction and requested it… The person shortly after deleted their account and never responded to emails. I posted it on the kink meme and never got a response. I won another auction and never received anything. After that I tried to get my friends to write it, but that also didn't happen.
> 
> So what was left? Guess that meant it came down to me writing it. Now that wouldn't have been so bad if the idea hadn't grown rapidly over time. By the time I started this story I had over 10k words in backstory written, most of which is not even addressed in this fic. Another issue was the fact that I've never finished a story over 8k or so, so I had no way of knowing if I could do this.
> 
> This fic has been a huge learning experience for me. I had a nice plot drawn out… About 3k in I was so far away from what I'd originally planned that there was no choice for me to throw it out. So I completely winged the rest of this. There wasn't even supposed to be any Jim/Bones. There wasn't supposed to be a sequel that'll contain a threesome and so much more. It somehow turned into a monster when I wasn't looking.
> 
> So begin the many thanks I owe. First I have to thank xlcatloveress. She's been with me since the beginning. She put up with all my rants, all my brainstorming, all my frustration when I couldn't figure out how to get the two fandoms to merge. She's been going through some hard times recently and hasn't been around. So hon, if you're reading this. Thanks so much. This wouldn't have happened without you. I don't think I would have even gotten into the fandom like I have without you.
> 
> Then there is easilymused1956. I only met her this summer while writing this and she was a big help, dealing with my random questions at all hours of the day (and night). She passed away at the beginning of August and will never see this. Renee this is dedicated to you.
> 
> Next I have to thank the wonderful emmypenny. I met her through the beta post. While she wasn't able to beta this, she was a wonderful drill sergeant and cheerleader. With her help I managed to write 30k in ten days! Thanks so much!
> 
> cedara was my alpha reader at ficfinishing and was probably the first person to read any of this. Her insight was beyond helpful. I also have to thank that awesome comm. They were amazingly helpful. Thanks!
> 
> Then there are the people that have put up with my near constant chatter up this fic: whiteraven1606 and cruelest_month. Thanks to all of you! You helped keep me sane.
> 
> Also a huge thanks to my artist gadgetorious and my mixer wyntreaurora. They did an amazing job. Thanks guys!
> 
> Then last but definitely not least I have to thank my wonderful last minute betas teleen-fiction, jademac2442, and meteorfire who stepped up to the plate and helped me out when I had a stupid moment and thought I posted on the 10th and not the 2nd. So any mistakes are mine and due to my procrastination and should not reflect badly on their beta ability. Thanks so much for taking up such an undertaking in such a short period of time.
> 
> And thank you to everyone that has helped me over the months that I may have forgotten because I know there were others.


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